A Different Point of View
by fukuji mihoko
Summary: As a strange, unexpected friendship begins to grow between Battler and Ronove, Battler begins to wonder whether he's lost his mind- or whether Beato's creepy butler really is the only person he can talk to. :Battler/Ronove, spoilers for ep7:
1. First kiss

**A Different Point of View  
><strong>First Kiss

* * *

><p>"Alright, Beato. I've put up with some pretty weird stuff, but now I've got to ask. Who the hell is he?"<p>

"Now, now, Bahh~ttler, don't be so rude," chided Beatrice, folding her arms. "This guy is pretty important! He's my butler, Ronove."

"Ronove, huh? …Interesting name."

"As is yours," replied Beato's butler- who was, apparently, called Ronove.

Ronove was smiling, but Battler was sure there was a poorly concealed insult behind that expression. That wasn't because of baseless paranoia, either.

Anybody who was an ally of Beatrice's was a potential enemy of Battler's. It was that simple.

That dig about his name hadn't helped mattered, either.

"Hey, leave my name alone. At least it's a real word. In English, anyway…" Battler retorted childishly. He sounded overly defensive even to his own ears, but he couldn't help it. Responding violently to attacks on his name was almost second nature- like a defensive mechanism.

Whenever people made fun of his name it reminded Battler of being in elementary school. The kids there had teased him a lot. They had nice, sensible names bestowed upon them by nice, sensible parents, like 'Kana' or 'Kenta'. Battler was the only 'Battler' in his school- hell, scratch that, he was probably the only 'Battler' in the whole of _Japan_- and that made him stick out. And anybody who's been a child once before (that'd be, oh, only about 100% of the people reading this) will know how cruel children can be to those who are different.

As you can probably guess, Battler's childhood memories weren't particularly cheerful. It wasn't all that surprising that he had a complex about his name.

Rudolf had ruined Battler's childhood- and that was another thing Battler would never him forgive him for. Even though Battler had, eventually, managed to overcome the handicap of his name by being as friendly and cheerful as possible, his life would have been far easier if he'd never been given that handicap to begin with.

Rudolf had probably done it on purpose, too.

Bastard.

Perhaps watching Rudolf die over and over again should've been cathartic, then.

It wasn't.

Battler wasn't cruel enough to truly wish his father would die; not at hands as imaginative as Beatrice's.

_Great._

Now Battler had a fucked up childhood and a fucked up teenage life, and, basically, he was going to twist and mutate (not 'grow') into a very fucked up adult thanks to the combined efforts of that his father, Beatrice, her legion of bare-legged, big-boobed sisters…

And now, it seemed, Beato's weird butler wanted to have a hand in messing up Battler's life, too.

Yippy skippy.

And how did Battler know Beato's butler was a freak, I hear you ask? It's quite simple.

1) He worked for an insane, psychotic mass murderer.

2) He had a monocle.

"I apologize. I wasn't trying to insult you," Ronove said politely, bowing his head. Well, he could be polite all he wanted- Battler didn't believe him. "I was merely trying to say perhaps we have something in common, given our… unusual… names. And my name is fairly straightforward amongst demons. I doubt you've heard of Forneus or Andrealphus**."**

Battler stared at Ronove blankly. He might as well have been talking in tongues for all he knew. Battler was already confused enough by the numerous illogical inhabitants of the meta world- Ronove didn't need to make it any worse by bringing any more of them up!

Battler didn't think his head could take it.

"…What?"

"I thought not~ My name is rather manageable in comparison, is it not? I hope it doesn't cause you too many problems. It's a pleasure to meet you, Ushiromiya Battler."

"Yeah, yeah." Battler rolled his eyes. "Save the nicities. If you're anything like your master, I don't think it's particularly 'pleasurable' to meet you. No offence."

"None taken."

"Hey, what do you mean by that?" Beatrice asked, pouting. "Mu… That's really rude, you know! You should be more polite to your elders and betters, Bahhh~ttler!"

"Whatever."

"Don't 'whatever' me, you ignorant child. You'll eat those words when I've ground your face into the dirt!" Beatrice said.

"You've got a nice hobby there. Don't expect me to give up that easily, though. I don't care whether you try to _drown _me in dirt and break all my bones- I still won't show you any respect."

Beatrice smirked. "I would expect nothing less from you, Battlerrr~ Yes, yes, you're still very interesting!"

Battler folded his arms and tipped back on his chair, looking Ronove up and down. The look on his face was critical, as though he were surveying a painting.

Battler had already known Beato long enough to realize the look on her face very rarely strayed from an insane grin and narrowed eyes. Her butler, however, was very different. There was nothing particularly maniacal about his expression at all, but, even so…

His smile seemed sincere enough, but Battler was sure there was something much darker lurking beneath the surface. He was, after all, a demon. Battler trusted Ronove about as far as he'd have been able to throw him- which wasn't very far, given Battler suspected Ronove was a few inches taller than him. This was a surprise. Battler had grown up as quickly as a bean pole during the last few years, until he began to push 5' 9''. Maria had regarded him as some kind of giant, or a sasquatch, when she'd first seen him at the airport. It was rare Battler found anybody taller than him… And it was a little disconcerting, really.

Then again, everything about the meta world was disconcerting, from Beatrice's funky facial expressions to the golden butterflies to the chessboard of living pieces to the horrible interior décor that made Battler feel as though he were trapped in a giant snow globe. Ronove being a few inches taller than him (and Ronove's name) were trivial worries in comparison to everything else.

"I think I prefer those cute sisters with the nice asses," was Battler's final judgement on Ronove's appearance. He smirked. "I mean, even if they're all complete bitches, it's still awesome getting so much attention from such a huge harem of sexy girls! I'm disappointed, Beato. Why couldn't you have a hot maid instead of this weird old butler? He's really not my type."

"Ah, Battler, your words wound me," said Ronove- though his smile didn't flicker. If anything, it grew wider. "We've only been introduced for a few moments and already you've resorted to attacking my character. Why, we hardly know each other! Perhaps you're being too hasty with your judgments."

"Somehow, I doubt that. I don't want to get to know you. I bet Beato only brought you here to annoy me. She'll use your presence to go 'demons really do exist, look!' in a few seconds, I bet," Battler explained, throwing his arms wide as he spoke. "It's not like you hanging around here is going to make my life any easier."

"Ha~ Well, I can't argue with that. I have to follow Milady's orders, so my actions will echo hers. It's sad to say, but I doubt I'll be able to help you very much."

"Yeah. That's what I thought," said Battler. "So you see, I really have no reason to want to know you at all. Maybe, if you were hot… But you're not. So, unlike those sexy sisters, if you do anything to piss me off, I'm not going to let you off so easily, ihihi~"

"I may be bound by Milady's orders, but let me assure you that I would never attempt to hurt you of my own volition," said Ronove, smiling. "I'm a complete gentleman through and through. Pu ku ku~"

"I don't think I can trust anybody with a laugh like that, demon or not. You're not helping yourself."

"Then trust not my words, but my actions."

"Hey, what's that meant to mean?" Battler asked.

He soon wished he hadn't asked.

_Me and my stupid mouth._

Battler tried to remain composed, calm, aloof (it was the best way to deal with Beatrice and her 'friends'), but his resolve soon quivered when Ronove began to walk towards him. Battler didn't like Ronove's smile- he didn't like it at all! W-wasn't he getting a little too close there?

"H-hey, what are you-"

But Battler's second question was soon silenced when Ronove took hold of Battler's hand between his gloved fingers. Battler was far too disturbed to snatch his hand back in time. He'd experienced some very odd things during his sojourn in the meta world but, somehow, being flirted with by a demon butler (with a _monocle_) crossed the line.

It was just…

_Urgh._

Merely trying to think of a suitable word to describe the situation made Battler shudder, as though something cold was seeping up his spine.

Still smiling that impervious, rictus grin, Ronove bent his head-

And placed a kiss on the back of Battler's hand.

…

Well…

That was, if nothing else, an 'interesting' way to make somebody's acquaintance.

All of a sudden, Battler felt fearful for his sanity.

_This just gets worse and worse._

_Useless, it's all useless!_

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Because… this pairing is so desu XD; ~fangirls~ I've been wanting to write a more, umm, romance-focused Ronove/Bahhttler fic for a while than a mere 'lol power play' thing that my other fics for this pairing were, so this will have gradually building friendship and the like in it. However, it probably won't be too long (this is a pretty short chapter itself XD)

**01/11/2011: **edited the first chapter, fixed spellings (hopefully) and better flow. I didn't realize how incredibly not-good the first version of it was until now... XD

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	2. Second kiss

**A Different Point of View  
><strong>Second Kiss

* * *

><p>"Man, what was Beato getting so pissy about?" asked Battler, slumping back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair distractedly, making it even messier than usual. That was quite an accomplishment.<p>

"Milady is quite prone to bouts of anger," said Ronove. "Please don't take her words to heart. She's at a difficult age where she has rather too many emotions and not enough ways to express them."

"A difficult age?" Battler repeated. He couldn't help but smirk at that. "I thought she was meant to be, like, one thousand years old. You're making her sound like a whiney teenager."

"Well, we're all young at heart."

"Pfft." Battler rolled his eyes. "So much for her 'I'm an amazing witch and you should respect your elders and betters' claims, then. Not that I ever believed them in the first place. I mean, if that's true, then Beato looks pretty fii~iine for an old hag, ihihihi~"

"Whilst I am inclined to agree with you, don't let Milady hear you say such cheeky things," Ronove chided gently, his voice laced with humour. "I'm sure you're aware by now how creative her punishments can be."

"Huh? Are you worried for my safety?" asked Battler. He raised a brow, smirking- a cutting expression he hadn't practised for hours in front of his bedroom mirror so he could look cool in front of cute girls, of course not! …Ihihihi. "How sw_eee_t~ And here I thought you were meant to be the ruthless thirty-fifth demon of hell brought here to make my life miserable, or whatever."

"Twenty-seventh," Ronove corrected. "The third-fifth would be Marchosias."

"Thanks for the useless information. It's not like I'll remember that."

"I wouldn't expect you to. Even I have trouble remembering the names of my numerous colleagues. I think seventy-two might be overkill."

"Haha, you don't say~ And I thought Beato was bad enough. Keeping track of _seventy-two_ demons must be a pain."

"You get used to it after a while."

"Guess you came from a pretty big, dysfunctional family, then?"

"It's not really a 'family'. To be more precise, the seventy-two demons are more like… hmn… A group of people forced to spend a lot of time together, whether they want to or not."

"And in most cases it's 'not'?"

"However did you guess? Although, because I'm so charming myself, everybody enjoys my company, pu ku ku~"

"Ihihi~ You wish."

Ronove smiled genially. It looked more sincere than his usual expressions; genuinely comforting. Battler was surprised to note how easily he could distinguish the subtle shifts in emotions behind those smiles. He'd only known Ronove for a few hours, and Battler wasn't particularly perceptive when it came to people's emotions. Jessica always called him a 'blockhead' (not that Jessica had a right to talk, given how clueless she could be sometimes). Battler had been honestly surprised when he learnt about George and Shannon's relationship, even though the signs had been so incredibly obvious. Why, then, was Battler able to pick apart Ronove's enigmatic smiles so easily?

_It's because he's a demon and he's Beato's butler and he shouldn't exist and you don't trust him. You expect he's going to try and attack you at some point, so you're being unusually hyper-alert and aware. That's all._

Hn. That sounded like a valid excuse.

Not that it was an excuse, of course.

What did Battler need to excuse, anyway?

"Would you like some more tea?" asked Ronove, derailing Battler's train of thought. It was a good thing he did, too, as Battler's mind was slowly becoming so cluttered he must have had enough emotions for twelve different people.

Tea was nice and simple compared to Beatrice and genocide (which were topics that seemed to go hand in hand).

Battler sipped the tea Ronove had made (more like 'created' from thin air, with fucking _butterflies_, but Battler wasn't going to question it). He was caught off guard by just how good it was, even though he'd already drunk it a few times before.

That tea was concrete proof Ronove was most definitely some kind of demon. No human could have made tea that delicious. Tea wasn't even _that _nice to begin with.

_Haha, that's a little sad. You keep trying to deny Beato when she shows you all those closed room murders and goat-headed butlers, but you suddenly start to believe in magic because this guy can make really nice tea?_

_I guess the way to a guy's heart really_ is_ through his stomach._

_Ahh, I'm so weak willed. I think Beato'd be pretty annoyed if I gave into her that easy, though._

"To put your mind at ease, I don't exist merely to aggravate you," said Ronove, taking a seat at the white table opposite Battler.

The color of the table was not a great surprise. Everything in the meta world was white. Battler was 90% sure he'd need glasses after this horrible experience was over. He'd probably begin to associate the color white to Beatrice and her cruel-natured 'game' through some strange Pavlovian response, and then he'd go completely insane and end up in a hospital, with _more _white.

This seemed like a rather bleak future.

"You mean you're not just sat here to annoy me?" asked Battler, a touch of sarcastic incredibility to his voice. "_Really_?"

"Really."

"Damn. And here I thought I was special. I was feeling pretty important, all these demons and big-boobed sisters fussing over making my life as miserable as possible. Ihihi~"

"It's nice to you can take such things in your stride. I'm a little awed," said Ronove, laughing. "But, nevertheless, if I wanted to annoy you I wouldn't have offered you any tea. I'm afraid, after being a butler for so long, I can't quite shake my base impulse to be as hospitable as possible. I'm sorry if I don't live up to your mental image of a demon," said Ronove, still smiling.

Battler could only grin at this. He didn't realize Beato's butler could be… actually kind of… _fun _to talk to. Those sexy sisters were nice on the eyes, but the last time they 'spoke' to Battler their words had been taunts, jeers and insults spat between a fun session of driving their stake forms into his skin. That was a little different to the conversation Battler was having now.

He was actually _talking _to somebody, and that person was responding, and there weren't any death threats or insane laughter involved. In fact, Ronove was- despite his strange greeting- rather normal.

Maybe everybody in the meta world greeted each other by kissing their hands? Didn't they do that in Europe?

Strangely enough, Battler was actually enjoying himself. He knew he'd probably regret it later, but this was the closest he'd come to being able to relax ever since Beato appeared and flipped his life sideways and upside down.

"I'm also concerned for your safety. It seems Milady has taken a liking to you," said Ronove.

"A _liking_? She has a weird way of showing it."

"The 'game' she's constructed entertains her, much like a child playing with a few dolls. But Milady, whilst she attempts to act like an all-powerful witch, is very childish herself. She's not necessarily nice to her toys. However, I have a feeling she'd be very upset if she truly broke you… So be careful," said Ronove, smiling enigmatically.

"Hmn? You sound like you speak from experience," said Battler, smirking his 'no-I-did-not-practise-to-attain-these-levels-of-awesome-they-come-naturally' smirk. "Does Beato like to fuck around with her own furniture, too?~~~"

"…Milady can be quite cruel," said Ronove, after a small pause. "I think we can leave it at that, no? Let your imagination do the rest. Teenagers have quite vivid imaginations, yes?~ Pu ku ku~"

Battler found himself laughing as well at this comment. Oh yeah, he knew about Beato's cruel side. He knew all too well. Maybe that dehumanising 'furniture' kink Beato had, complete with grinding faces into the dirt and chains, was a little (well, a _lot_) disconcerting, but Battler couldn't help but snigger at how ridiculous it all was.

As both Battler and Ronove laughed, Battler was suddenly struck with a worrying thought.

Was he… actually _bonding _with Beato's creepy butler?

…Nah.

He couldn't be.

"Seriously, Beato was spouting complete bullshit back there, though. And so were you when you took up the telling of her little fairy story, come to think of it," said Battler. He took a sip of tea slowly, savouring the taste, before he set the cup back down on the table with a _chnk_. "I mean, all that stuff about homunculus…es…?"

"Homunculi."

"Whatever." Battler then paused, a small frown flitting across his lips. "…I say that a lot, don't I?"

"Indeed. But it's fairly typical for somebody of your age- and you have more excuse than most, being at the epicentre of such a bizarre situation. I'll forgive you for your inelegant speech."

"Ihihi~ Thanks very much. I'm not really looking for your approval, though. I could live without it. But…" Battler stared down at his reflection in the teacup, resting his head in his hands with his elbows on the table. "Geez. Beato overreacted. I mean, it was obvious from the start I wasn't going to believe her stupid story, so why'd she get so… upset? She didn't need to _leave_ because of it."

"Ha…" Ronove laughed softly. Like Battler, he leant forwards across the table top, closing the space between them; staring at Battler intently, in a manner that made Battler feel distinctly uncomfortable. "You were commenting that I do not appear to be a 'proper' demon, but you're not talking in a manner that suggests you are Milady's opponent. Why, if I didn't know any better… I would say that you're _worried_ about her. Didn't I tell you to be careful?"

"I'm not worried," Battler retorted, trying to force his gaze to meet Ronove's. He didn't want to look away first- that would be _weak._ "I'm just confused, that's all. I don't like it when my opponent acts unpredictably. Then it's difficult to form a counterattack."

"Mm. I'll take your word for it," said Ronove, in a tone of voice that suggested he didn't believe Battler at all. "But you must remember, Battler, Milady- regardless of how she may appear to you- is still a person with emotions not all that dissimilar to yours."

"Huh? So you're saying I should sympathise with her?" asked Battler. "Does she have some really long, saaad sob story about how she turned into an evil bitch, and it's not really her fault, she's really a poor victim of circumstanceee? Ihihihi- get real!"

Battler had intended his flippant comment to be a joke. After all, sympathetic villains with weepy back stories only existed in romance novels, right? Sometimes people did shitty things because they could, not because they had any particular justification for it. That was what Battler thought about Beatrice.

Sure, Beatrice needed sacrifices as part of her 'ceremony', and she needed Battler to accept her, so maybe the closed room murders (infuriating though they were) were excusable. However, mashing people's faces into red pulp and stuffing corpses with candies…

That was simply_ barbaric._

Completely unnecessary.

Only a rotten person through and through would be able to do something like that and then laugh. Battler would never forgive Beatrice for smirking at the corpses of his family.

_Never._

However, the small sliver of uncertainty that passed across Ronove's face made Battler pause. Beato's butler was almost always smiling. This sudden change was… strange.

"What?" asked Battler, his grin fading. "You're not _seriously_ saying Beato has some horrible dark angsty past, are you? Are you going to flip this chessboard over and turn _me _into the villain for upsetting her or something? 'Cause I'm not going to start cackling like Beato does, you know."

"Please don't adapt Milady's laugh. I quite like yours as it is."

Ronove might have been teasing Battler, but it was a little difficult to tell, given his usual smile was somewhat strained.

"It… would probably be rude of me to discuss Milady's past in too much detail," said Ronove, after a short pause. His eyes, bright blue, pierced into Battler's. Ronove's stare was intense; so much so it made Battler shudder. "I am afraid I cannot divulge sensitive information about Milady without her permission. I wouldn't want to upset her."

"Or piss her off."

"Naturally. That too," said Ronove, smiling slightly. "She can be quite ruthless. Nevertheless… please remember that Milady is not a two-dimensional monster. She may be cruel, but she still has emotions. Be mindful of them next time you speak to her."

"Urgh. Is this another one of those 'she's a girl so be nice to her!' things?" asked Battler, slumping forward on the tabletop. "I don't think gender is an excuse when it comes to murder, you know. If you're a horrible person, then you're horrible."

"I agree with you."

"Huh? You do?" asked Battler, lifting his head up slightly.

"Of course. I know a vast number of demons, many of whom are female, and I doubt you could excuse their cruelty based on their gender. That would be incredibly unfair," explained Ronove. "However, I think anybody would feel a little perturbed if they devoted themselves to telling somebody a very personal story, and another person cut across it with a comment like- and I'm quoting your here- 'that's complete bullshit'. You were too harsh."

Ronove really didn't sound right cursing. Battler wasn't sure why he thought that, given he'd only known him for a few hours (was it 'hours'? It was difficult to keep track of time in the meta world). However, the expletive still made Battler feel odd.

"Wellll… maybe…" said Battler, after a pause. He ran a hand through his hair again, sighing. "But… After all Beato's put me through, she can hardly expect me to unwaveringly believe everything she says. If that story was in red, maybe…"

"You're quite right not to trust her. Just do it more gracefully next time. If you irritate Milady too much the game will come to a standstill. I merely have both your best interests at heart."

"I'll bet," said Battler, voice teasing. "And being a demon, your 'heart' is non-existent, right? Or it's all black and dead."

"Not a bit of it. I have a very kind heart."

"In a jar on your desk. Iihihi~"

"I resent that comment," said Ronove, smiling. "Appropriations of body parts, cannibalism, child murder and the like are untruthful charges given to the witches in the 16th century. Real witches and demons are more elegant in their practices than that~"

"Apart from Beato."

"Compared to most witches, Milady is but a child. You'll have to be lenient with her."

"But not _too _lenient, right?"

"Mm. I suppose. And, though I wish we could talk pleasantly like this for longer, you probably shouldn't trust me too much either."

"Like I'd trust you anyway," said Battler. He scoffed. "You're thinking _waaay_ too highly of yourself there."

"Ahh, how foolish of me."

"Yep. Pretty stupid, really."

It was bizarre, Battler reflected, being able to converse so freely with somebody. It felt a little like talking to Jessica, or George, or any of his cousins. This was, quite simply… nice. A welcome change. Even if the contents of his and Ronove's conversation had been completely removed from Battler's usual sphere of interest.

"But, just to clarify," said Battler, leaning forwards slightly. His eyes narrowed, filled with the fire of an unspoken challenge. "What would happen if I did, foolishly, decide to place a little faith in you…?"

Ronove paused, seeming to ponder this question. Then, he lent forwards-

(Battler felt his breath catch in his chest)

-and said, quietly, "Mm… Maybe something like this."

Battler saw it coming- but he didn't move away. Instead, he sat there, eyes widening slightly-

-as Ronove pressed a light kiss against the side of his mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Muu… I really fangirl over this pairing quite a bit, eheheh ^_^;;  
>I mean, srsly tho, it's not all that cracky. These two characters genuinely seem to get along rather well in canon, bitchin about Beato behind her back XD At least these guize actually have conversations together and the like XP<p>

I really love the idea of all 72 demons being together in some bizarre dysfunctional family thing, where most of 'em grew up together… because the idea of chibi Gaap, Ronove, Zepar and Furfur going on fun adventures is really, really cute XDD And I totes see chibi Zepar being really overprotective of Furfur, for some reason… XD;; (although something like that isn't really relevant to _this_fic, I guess, eheheh XD)

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	3. An attempt to understand

**A Different Point of View  
><strong>An attempt to understand

* * *

><p>The pain on Beato's face had been so tangible Battler swore he could feel it stinging through his own body. Unbidden, Battler felt his fingers press against his cheek. He half-expected the skin there to be red and swollen. That was ridiculous, though.<p>

_He _wasn't the one who'd been slapped across the face.

Instead, he'd…

_Urgh._

Battler grit his teeth together, his fingers fisting in his hair. When he shut his eyes, tried to calm his erratic breathing and rapid heartbeat, he could still see Beato staring at him; a painful memory that wouldn't fade away.

She'd looked so _hurt_- completely confused. Battler had shouted at her, hurled abuse and then hit her so hard a hash crack had resounded through air. It split the silence and shattered it, like a dropped plate. And that wasn't the worst thing.

Beato hadn't realized what she'd done wrong.

She didn't know _why _Battler had hit her.

That was the worst thing.

Beato had watched Rosa and Maria get tossed around, rag doll corpses, drowned in jelly and crushed by cake, and she'd…

S-she'd _laughed._

She thought it was hilarious. She'd never even paused to think how Battler would feel. Battler's potential misery hadn't even occurred to her; the mere thought that she was scorning the dead (or perpetually dying) had never crossed her mind. She hadn't realized it would upset Battler.

She truly hadn't noticed.

She'd been just a like a child desperate to share something interesting with her friend; '_look, I can set fire to these tiny little ants with a magnifying glass_!' It was something like that. Asserting power over people, as though people were weak bugs, because…

Because Beatrice could.

And nobody had ever told her she shouldn't.

And so Beatrice never grew up.

Ronove had said Beato was thick-headed, but was it possible for a human to be that truly dense? Maybe not- but Beatrice wasn't a human. Battler had been deluding himself from the start. He'd assumed, naïvely, that because Beatrice appeared to be human, her motives would be similar to a human's, too.

Now it was obvious that wasn't true.

Beato hadn't shown him that disgusting display of Rosa and Maria's multiple deaths to upset Battler. Battler could tell by the surprise that flittered across her face when he grew angry. Beato had thought they could snigger at that like they were watching a movie- and maybe that was okay for Beatrice, if she had no feelings, but…

But Beato _did _have emotions. That much was obvious by her wide eyes and pained gasp as Battler struck her.

She_ could _feel things.

Just not the same things most humans felt.

How could you fight an enemy like that, whose motives were driven by completely alien and unknown emotions?

And yet… how could you truly hate a person like that, either? If Beato wasn't aware she had hurt Battler then how could he despise her for that? She really was just like a small child; unaware of social taboos because she had never learnt them, or she felt they didn't apply to her.

Stupid.

She was so _stupid._

Battler was torn between pitying her and hating her, and he didn't know what to feel. Maybe he'd been a little hasty when he hit her like that- b-but didn't she deserve it? The mere fact that she didn't realize the gravity of what she was doing meant she wasn't human. She couldn't be saved. So Battler shouldn't worry about trying to 'save' her, or make her a better person.

It was impossible.

It was obvious that was impossible by the way she'd laughed at the sad sight of Rosa and Maria, falling through the air and swallowed in jelly and subjected to so many humiliating tortures they no longer looked human at the end of their ordeal.

But that was okay because the witch could revive them and play even more.

The fun never stopped.

Well… it didn't for a witch.

If Beato was amused by something like that, then Battler shouldn't have felt sympathy for her. He should have called her a monster- heartless and cruel, who deserved to die.

But she wasn't a monster, not really…

She was… more like a young girl. She was little like Maria. Maria cheerfully spoke about witches and demons with no indication it was hurting her mother. Maria liked to show off, boasting about her vast knowledge even though Rosa told her not to- and maybe Beato was doing the same thing, showing Battler the powers witches possessed even though Battler didn't want to know about it.

Battler couldn't forgive Beatrice.

And yet, at the same time…

He couldn't despise her.

Battler didn't know what to think, what to feel. He pressed his eyelids shut tightly and tugged at his hair- bit at his lower lip, as though the pain could clear his mind.

It didn't work.

What should he do?

He… didn't know.

Battler was sitting on a chair under the arbour in the rose garden. The surrounding roses had always been a comfort when Battler looked at them before. Now, however, they were a gruesome reminder of the tragedies that had taken place, using that very same rose garden as a stage. The bodies of Maria and Rosa- Maria cold and dead on the floor, Rosa's body pierced on the railings of the fence- lay, sprawled, just behind Battler. He knew they were there, but he didn't want to look.

Why had he chosen the arbour, or all places, to sit and collect his thoughts? It was a badly thought out plan; just another event in the 'Ushiromiya Battler sabotages his own life' series.

The game board was frozen, each rain drop suspended in the steely sky. Battler could have counted each of them if he so wished, which he didn't- not particularly. Occasionally, however, he found himself running numbers through his head just to calm his nerves.

Everything looked dead in this world, not just the sad corpses of Rosa and Maria. Battler was the only splash of color- red hair, white suit- on a barren, lifeless canvas.

Perhaps Beatrice felt powerful when she sashayed through the frozen game board; a queen surveying her courtiers.

Battler didn't.

This was a reminder of just how far removed he was from the real world. He could see the pieces on the board but he couldn't contact them and they would never realize he was there, either. He was an extra character, trying desperately to cling onto a story that didn't involve him anymore.

He felt isolated.

The only people Battler could talk to were Beato and her furniture- but that wasn't good enough. He wanted his family back. He wanted to see his cousins, his aunts and uncles, his little sister, Kyrie- even that old bastard.

But that was impossible.

Useless.

It really was useless.

All the other people on this game board were destined to be destroyed. They would die again and again, and Battler couldn't do a thing.

He couldn't stop it.

He-

"My, my… You don't look like your usual, cheery self."

Battler was drawn out of his reverie by the sound of another's voice. He jerked his head upwards, starting slightly. In this frozen, grey photograph world with unmoving raindrops and its inhabitants still as statues, Battler hadn't expected to meet any other person.

Then again, Ronove wasn't technically a 'person'.

Beato's butler was sat opposite Battler on a similar white chair as though he'd always been there. Battler had to wonder, for a few seconds, how long Ronove actually had been there. Had he been watching him?

The mere thought of it made Battler's skin crawl. Was having a few moments alone really too much to ask for?

"Shouldn't you be with Beato?" asked Battler tiredly. He didn't bother trying to hide his exhaustion. He had a _right_ to be exhausted, damn it. "As her butler, shouldn't you… I dunno… be supporting her, or something? I bet she'd be pretty pissed off if she knew you were spending so much time with the enemy."

"Ah, well… Milady feels you're so incompetent that it would hardly harm her position if I gave you a few hints now and again," said Ronove, his voice gently teasing. There was no malice behind those words, or the smile on his face, and Battler was perturbed to note he… actually felt a little comforted by that.

At least some things never changed.

"Did you come here to insult me?" asked Battler, glaring at Ronove. His expression was supposed to be threatening, but as Battler felt too exhausted to arrange his facial features properly it had little effect.

"That wasn't my intention. However, I could spare you a few insults if you would like."

Battler sighed. "No, I wouldn't like. Sorry to disappoint you." A pause. "So if you're _not_ here to gloat or insult me, why are you here? Your Beato's furniture- go talk to her."

"Miss Virgilia is already with Milady at this moment. Moreover… Milady occasionally finds my company tiresome at times."

"Mm. I _wonder_ why," said Battler, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"It is, indeed, a mystery."

This deadpan comment, spoken without a trace of irony, was just enough to quirk the sides of Battler's lips into a (hardly-there) small smile.

"I realize I may be acting intrusive, but I'm rather curious. Why do you look so upset?"

After that question, however, Battler's slowly kindling sense of good humor died a painful death.

Battler stared at Ronove in abject horror for a few moments- before, with a loud groan, he collapsed at the table.

"Geez, not _you_ as well."

"Hm? Did I say the wrong thing? We've only been conversing for a minute, and already you're sick of me…" Ronove sounded hurt, though Battler- his head buried in his hands- wasn't sure whether this was sincere or not. He couldn't see Ronove's face to gauge his expression. He was probably smiling, though. "This really is quite depressing."

"Shut up," Battler muttered into his hands. "Just… God, _you're _not like Beato too, are you?"

"I am dissimilar from Milady in a great number of ways."

_Yeah, that's true, _thought Battler. _I think of two _really _great ways right now._

"I… I mean…" Battler tripped over his words helplessly, struggling to organize his thoughts properly. "You saw what happened, and you _seriously _have to ask that question?"

"Question?"

Battler wondered how to respond to that comment. He wondered for all of two seconds- before, with a sudden burst of newfound energy, he slammed his palms against the table top and pulled himself into a sitting position. His eyes were narrowed, dangerous, and the look on his face could have curdled milk.

"You _saw_ what happened to Rosa and Maria!" Battler said, his voice rising in volume. He didn't care how loud it became; nobody, save Ronove, could hear him. It wasn't like Beatrice would hear… which, somehow, made this whole conversation feel useless. Ronove wasn't, after all, the one Battler wanted to direct his anger at. "You saw what Beato did… O-or let happen, if you want to pick apart the details… A-and she thought it was hilarious! She was laughing like it was a comedy routineor something, but Aunt Rosa and Maria… they're… T-they're human lives, damn it- and they're people I _care_ about! Of course I'm 'upset'! I have a right to be! And if you have to ask why I'm so sad and confused and completely messed up right now then… t-then maybe… I-I kind of thought you had more common sense than your stupid master, but I guess I was wrong, wasn't I? How stupid of me. Gaah- it's useless, it's all useless!"

Battler was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with each pained inhalation. It felt as though his lungs were filled with fire. His throat burnt. He'd tried to remain composed, in control, in front of Beato and her minions, but…

His whole body shuddered. His eyes felt suspiciously damp, and it hurt to breathe.

He couldn't remain calm.

He just_ couldn't._

Maybe… he would have been heartless if he could.

In Beato's previous game Battler had been reduced to tears, too; a quivering, helpless _wreck _that crawled on the ground like a dog before its 'Master'. Battler didn't want that to happen again. He could still remember the feeling of heavy metal around his neck; blistering his skin despite how cold it was. He didn't want to break down again. He didn't want to _be _broken down.

Battler tried to pretend this didn't bother him, _none_ of this bothered him, but in reality…

It was difficult trying to remain so unaffected by all the shit going on; really, really difficult. When Battler thought of the deaths and closed rooms as the events in a cheap detective TV drama it wasn't too difficult to get fired up about fighting Beato's arguments. Sometimes, it was even fun.

But… Battler couldn't ignore the fact these were real lives Beato was playing with. Human lives. Not characters or actors- and to Battler they weren't pieces, either.

Chess pieces didn't scream or beg for mercy when you took them.

Seeing his family murdered again and again- people Battler loved, people he cared about- was… too much. Simply too much.

Beato wasn't a human.

She was a monster.

And maybe you couldn't reason with monsters. Maybe this really was all pointless. Maybe Battler… really couldn't help anybody.

It was impossible to reason with somebody who wasn't human; who didn't understand what death was, and found the concept of it hilarious.

Sniffing, Battler tried to wipe away the hot, angry tears that were beading in the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to cry in front of Beato's butler. It was pathetic, weak… and, above all, stupid; just like pointing out your own weaknesses to your opponent in a chess game.

_Look. If you move your knight there, you can put me in checkmate._

Although, in this case, Battler's declaration of defeat was more like; _look. If you push me hard enough I'll have a mental breakdown and start crying. If you just keeping screwing around with my emotions like this, you can probably win._

Biting his lower lip- trying to distract himself from his emotions with pain (it didn't work; it would never work)- Battler continued to drag his trembling fingertips underneath his eyes. He pressed so hard against his skin it began to hurt- and still, he couldn't stop himself from crying.

It was cliché to think so, and Battler had always scorned at the phrase when he read it in books, but it truly felt as though his heart had constricted.

Everything hurt.

This really was u-

"H-huh?"

But Battler's internal monologue of fragmented misery was interrupted, once more, by Ronove.

Battler felt a light pressure press against his cheek. It swept underneath his eyes, brushing away the tears Battler was unable to control. The light touch was gentle, caring. Battler almost wanted to lean into it. He couldn't remember the last time anybody had tried to comfort him like this- not after his mom died. Suddenly, Battler felt about as old as Ange.

Battler, blinking through his tears, saw Ronove sliding his thumb against his cheek. He wasn't wearing his gloves; instead, his bare fingertips pressed against Battler's skin. It was warm… Ronove was close to him- far too close; and Battler was suddenly reminded of that kiss Ronove had given him.

Ha. If only that bizarre, impromptu kiss was the _only _thing Battler had to worry about. His life would be so much simpler then.

"W-what are you doing…?"

"Trying to make you presentable for Milady," said Ronove, smiling. "I doubt you would want her to see you like this."

"I don't want_ you_ to see me like this either," Battler said, trying to inject some venom into his voice. "F-fuck… T-this is so messed up… D-damn it…"

This scenario, embarrassing though it was, reminded Battler of the time he'd consoled his little sister when she lost her favorite hair ornaments, cheap though they were. He'd wiped away her tears with the back of his hand, tucking her red hair behind one ear with the other. Then, after pulling Ange into a slightly awkward hug (Battler wasn't used to playing the big brother role by this time, and he'd been afraid he'd crush her), Battler had taken Ange out to get her some replacement hair ties.

She never lost those- and the smile on her face as she fixed them in her hair had been radiant. Almost luminous.

It was so easy to dry the tears of young children. They were innocent. Naïve.

But Battler wasn't a child.

Playing such a cruel game against Beato, he wasn't allowed to be naïve or innocent.

And if Battler lost… he might never see Ange again.

"Don't worry. I might be a demon, but… perhaps I understand how you're feeling," said Ronove quietly. "It's a standard human reaction to feel remorse over death… And you've seen more than enough of that over the past few days. So, though I can't relate to your feelings fully, I do… sympathize with you. And you've been handling the situation remarkably well, regardless."

"You're fucking kidding me," said Battler, voice infused with anger. "Y-you sympathize? Y-you have no idea… Y-you and Beato, y-you couldn't_ possibly_ understand-"

"I suppose not. I apologize if I sounded insensitive," said Ronove, voice soothing. He was trying to skirt around Battler's anger with carefully chosen words and a small smile- and, sickening though it was… it was a comfort.

Just slightly.

_At least he's trying._

"Whilst I have a greater understanding of human nature than Milady, perhaps I am still too different from you to be of any comfort. Perhaps you could talk to me?"

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Then I'll sit here and wait until you do. A trouble shared is a trouble halved? I'm sure there's some truth in that saying."

"Ihihi. Pushy," said Battler, laughing weakly. "And you wonder why Beato doesn't like you."

"I wouldn't have to be pushy if you weren't so stubborn," said Ronove. "This game between yourself and Milady cannot proceed until you start talking with one another again."

Battler opened his mouth, ready to retort with another light-hearted come back-

But he paused.

The words stuck in his throat.

'_Game'._

That was what Ronove had called it.

A _game._

Ronove was here because Battler's poor mood was inconveniencing Beatrice; holding up her 'game'. H-he didn't really understand at all- not that Battler ever believed he did, even for a second, though it had been nice to pretend, for a few moments, he might have had an ally.

This… wasn't an attempt to comfort Battler.

This was all about keeping Beatrice entertained.

But… it didn't feel like a game to Battler- not at all.

How could it be a 'game' if real human lives were being toyed with? That wasn't 'fun', it was murder- a-and, though Ronove's fingers were cupping his face so softly, Ronove didn't really understand, not at all…!

All of a sudden, his touch seemed to blister Battler's skin.

"Get off me."

"Battler-"

"I _said, _get off me."

Battler pushed Ronove away from him using strength he didn't realize he possessed. Beato's butler hit the back of his chair with a painful-sounding _thunk_. It was a true testament to Battler's fury that Ronove's smile disappeared; replaced with surprise.

Rage for Rosa and Maria…

Rage over Beato's twisted 'game'…

Rage because of Beato's irredeemable personality…

And rage at himself because he couldn't bring himself to hate Beato; he'd broken down and begun to cry; h-he actually let Ronove try to offer him some comfort; he was weak, pathetic. He couldn't trust Beato and he couldn't trust any of her furniture, either.

Ronove had already told him that.

All of this anger mixed around inside Battler's head, threatening to choke him; blinding his vision with burning crimson.

And yet, despite that…

He felt hollow more than anything else.

Completely empty.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Had to break my beaut theme naming for this chapter, eheh XD; I really hope I didn't turn Battler into too much of a woobie here. He's been through a bunch of terrible stuff, so I think a breakdown like this is somewhat excusable.

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	4. Fleeting fragments of hope

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Fleeting Fragments of Hope

* * *

><p>Battler felt a wave of pure, undulated happiness wash through him as he stood, side by side, beside Beato. Clusters of butterflies danced about the pair, their gossamer wings flickering like candlelight or gold-plated raindrops. Idly, Battler wonder whether 'cluster' was the correct group name to apply to butterflies, but he didn't really care. Such trivialities were hardly important. Not when he had a really sexy reformed witch stood beside him, her body heat warming his side... Eheheh.<p>

When Beato wasn't making herself as unlikable as possible, she actually was kind of fun to be around.

"I... can hardly believe it," said Beatrice.

Her words echoed Battler's thoughts perfectly.

Beatrice's voice was softer than usual; more hesitant. She sounded like a young girl rather than a demonic monster that had lived one thousand years. Battler liked that tone of voice much more than her insane cackling. Then again, this should only have been expected... If Beato's 'tsuntsun' side was a psychopathic murderer, then her 'deredere' side had to be extra-especially adorable to make up for it!

...Battler really was too overcome with happiness to make any sense, even inside his own head.

Not that he was the most eloquent person at the best of times anyway.

"We've finally reached it," Beatrice said, looking up at Battler from under her eyelashes. "The Golden Land..." She smiled gently; a rare sight for Beatrice. Her teeth were no longer knives designed to tear theories apart with bright red truth. Instead, she had fought the second battle of wits- and hopefully the final one- at Battler's side. "It's all because of you, Battler."

"Ihihi... You flatter me, Beato," said Battler modestly. "You did so much work, too- looking through corpses for my sake. It was pretty amazing, seeing a thousand year old witch on the floor like that... Ihihi!"

"O-oh, shut up," said Beatrice, her face flushing slightly. "I-I was trying to help you! I-it's in bad taste to make fun of a lady!"

"Lady, huhh?~ I don't see any ladies here. Ihihi- ow!"

Battler winced as he felt a sharp pressure pinch his ear. He turned around, stumbling , to find one of the big-breasted little sisters glaring at him.

What was she called?

Lucifer...?

"That's no way to talk to Milady! You should be thanking her on bended knee, you useless man!"

"W-whoa! You've got quite a protective streak there!" Battler said, sniggering through his pain. "Ihihi... I'd love to have a hot, sexy, matu~~ree little sis like you to welcome me home after a difficult day... 'Welcome home, big bro!' you'd say. Ahh, I'd be the luckiest guy alive!"

Lucifer's face flushed. "W-what are you talking about? I-I have no idea, you filthy pervert!"

"Aww~ Don't you wanna be me little sister?"

"I'll be your little sister!~" the blonde, twin-tailed stake (Asmodeus?) cried, flying forwards and wrapping her arms round Battler's middle. Such was the vigor of her tackle-hug she very nearly bowled Battler off his feet. The young little sister stake buried her head in Battler's stomach, squealing. "You're mine!~ I caught you so now you're my slave!~ As your little sister you have to play with me lots and lots and lots and you can't look at any other girl or I might get jealous!~ I might get some scissors and… Eheh~ Who knows?~ Sorry, Luciii~ Sorry, Beaatooo~" Asmodeus cooed, turning to stick her tongue out at both women. "Finders keepers! I'm not sharing!"

"Muu... You impudent girl," said Beatrice- though she was smiling. "I believe I was the one who brought Battler to my game board."

"But you didn't make a move in time! Mine, mine, mineee~"

"Don't be so greedy, Asmo!" said Mammon, rapping the blonde little sister over the head. "That's my job~ If anybody's going to monopolize-"

"And sodomize," added Beelzebub, giggling.

"-Bahhhttler, then it'll be me! I want him!"

"No! I saw him first! I want a lovely romantic encounter like something from a galge!" wailed Asmodeus.

"I-I want to have some fun with Battler, too..." said Leviathan, tears welling in her eyes. "I want to have fun... U-uwahhhh!"

"Wait in line, Levia," said Belphegor, folding her arms.

"I'm the one most deserving of Battler's love!~ I have pigtails and everything! I could wear a sailor suit, too, and get some ribbons... I can say 'here's your breakfast, big brother' and 'have fun at school, big brother' and 'welcome home, big brother' and 'eeek, don't look up my skirt, big-'"

"Like anybody's interested in your childish body, Asmo!" snapped Satan, tugging on one of Asmodeus' pigtails. "You're stupid! Deluded! Ridiculous! Why don't you just die? You're so pitiful it hurts!"

All seven sisters soon fell into a loud argument, all of them pushing and shoving each other as they tried to grab hold of 'big brother' Battler.

"Honestly," said Beatrice, sighing. "They're like magpies who've just found something shiny. I don't know what they see in you."

"Ahh, that's a low blow, Beato!" said Battler, feigning hurt. "What _wouldn't _they like about me?~ I'm in marshmallow heaven!~ I'm going to get suffocated by seven loving little sisters!~~ It's like a dream come true!~~ Ihihihi~"

Meanwhile, the assembled members of the Ushiromiya family in the hall looked up at the scene before them in surprise. Shannon's face had turned bright pink; almost magenta. Jessica was cracking her knuckles together, muttering something about 'what a pervert.' Natsuhi had nearly fainted at the indecency of it all, whilst Kyrie smiled to herself and Rudolf gave Battler a thumbs up.

"Haha... I guess Battler's not such a disgrace to my genes after all," said Rudolf proudly. "Seven girls, all like that? I'm a little jealous, haha."

"Mm. That's nice, dear," said Kyrie, her smile growing rather dangerous. "But remember who you're standing with."

"O-of course, those big-boobed little sisters don't possess the same kind of mature beauty as you!" said Rudolf hurriedly, tearing his gaze away from Belphegor. "You're the only woman for me, Kyrie."

"I know." A smirk. "Your life wouldn't be worth living otherwise."

A clapping of hands finally drew Battler out of his 'marshmallow heaven' induced fantasies. Battler, Beatrice and the seven stakes turned around to see Virgilia, smiling serenely, with her hands pressed together.

"There are no limitations in the Golden Land. Furniture and humans, witches and demons, are one and the same, and all become family under one roof," Virgilia explained, her voice warm and pleasant as a summer's day. "However, perhaps it would be prudent if everybody calmed down for a while so we can commence the ceremony. We still need Beato and Battler's signatures to open the door of the Golden Land."

"Huh?" Battler raised a brow. "We need a signature? I didn't realize you magical girls did things in such an official, orderly fashion. I'm a little surprised! Ihihi- ow!"

Battler flinched as Beatrice flicked him in the forehead.

"Idiot," said Beatrice- though there was no malice in her words. "The opening of the Golden Land is an incredibly important ceremony steeped in magic that dates back to the beginning of time. As long as there have been witches, there has been the Golden Land, and when its doors open all assembled should feel greatly honored! You're such a child, Battler."

"Whoa. It's that important?"

Virgilia nodded in affirmation.

The seven stakes, all of whom were now clustered round Virgilia's feet like children waiting to hear a bed time story, also chipped in with cries of "of course" (Lucifer) and "it's embarrassing that you don't know" (Belphegor) and "yayy!~ Golden Land, Golden Land!~~ Imagine all the fooood they'll serve there!~" (Beelzebub).

"Ahh. I'm sorry if horsing around with your big-boobed little sisters spoilt the ancient magic or something," said Battler, laughing. "We're even now, right, Beato? Can you forgive me?"

Beatrice smiled sincerely at Battler, looking up at him (Battler had never realized how short she was before) from underneath her straight-across bangs. That was actually kind of cute...! Why didn't Beato pull faces like that more often? Those ugly smirks were such a wasted effort! Battler guessed, in the Golden Land, he'd have plenty of opportunities to see more 'interesting' faces from the bad-tempered witch.

"Of course I forgive you. After all, if it hadn't been for you... I would never have learnt how to become a real witch. I've been nothing but a cheap imitation for so long, and I didn't even realize..."

"Ignorance is bliss," said Virgilia. "I did try to tell you myself, though. Ha~ I should have known you'd rather take the advice from a handsome boy than your old teacher."

"T-teacher!" said Beatrice, her face heating up. "I-I don't... I mean..."

"Ihihi~ So you think I'm handsome, huhh, Beatooo?~"

"N-no! Not at all, I... I..." Beatrice worked herself up into a flustered state, looking down at her shoes with a pout on her face. "M-mu... I don't care what you have to say! T-teacher, bring out the parchment so we can sign! W-why stand at the doors of a party when you could just walk right in?"

"An excellent idea, Miss Beatrice," said Gohda, bowing his head. "I have prepared some of the most wonderful dishes for everybody to sample- but it wouldn't be the same without yourself and Battler sitting, pride of place, at the table."

"Yes. A meal isn't the same unless everybody's eating together, is it?" said Rosa.

"Food?" Beelzebub's eyes lit up. "There really will be food? Yayyy!~" She dived forwards quicker than a bolt of lightening, wrapping her arms round Gohda's waist in a bone-crushing hug. "Tell me what kinds, tell me what kinds!"

The resulting scene managed to break whatever sense of decorum Virgilia had managed to create. The sight of Gohda, a fully grown man, trying to push himself free of Beelzebub's grip, was enough to make everybody assembled laugh (a small smile even twitched on Belphegor's face, and she was usually so serious).

"Ahem..." Virgilia cleared her throat and turned back to Beatrice and Battler. She waved her hand, and another flurry of golden butterflies alighted upon the stand before the pair (was that stand always there...?). At once, an official-looking document appeared before the witch and her former opponent; a piece of paper covered in signatures from all the people assembled. Once Beatrice and Battler added their names to the list the magic ceremony would be completed and the door to the Golden Land would be open.

Finally, Battler could end this horrible game with Beato.

He wouldn't have to watch his family and friends die anymore.

They were all here, all of them; assembled before him, laughing and talking like a group of friends. Maria was talking to Asmodeus and the Chiester Sisters, whilst Rosa stood beside them with a motherly smile on her face. Natsuhi was fainted in Krauss' arms (most likely from the 'inappropriate display' Battler and the seven sisters had given previously). Beelzebub still had her arms wrapped round Gohda. Somehow, Rudolf had managed to escape Kyrie's iron fist and was talking to Belphegor, who was actually blushing. Satan looked as though she was deliberating between offering Kanon Valentine's Day chocolates or staking him in the heart, whilst Jessica was visibly perturbed by Satan's... affections. Eva was sobbing into Hideyoshi's arms about how her 'precious George!' was going to get married to a 'common maid!' Even Kinzo was smiling as he looked up at his beloved Beatrice, who was squabbling like a young girl over the quill with Battler.

It was almost impossible to believe the seven stakes and the Chiester Sisters had ever murdered any of the people in the room- and, indeed, Beatrice herself looked no more similar to a cold-blooded killer than a tomato did. As Battler teased Beatrice whilst she wrote her beautiful name in less-than-elegant kakatana ("What a waste for such a pretty Western name! You should write it in cursive!" "S-shut up!"), Battler felt something warm well up in his chest.

The murders all seemed like a bad dream.

They had never happened, right...?

It was going to be okay.

It had to be.

Battler and Beatrice had joined forces against the sham of Ushiromiya Eva and defeated her. Now, all that was left was a fairytale 'happy ending', right? The two enemies had become friends, and everybody was going to be revived in the Golden Land.

If this was a video game, surely Battler would get a 100% perfect for clearing it?

When the end credits going to play?

What song would they use?

When he thought about it like that, he couldn't stop a small, silly smile from spreading across his face.

"O-ow! Hey..."

Battler winced as he felt something prod him in the cheek. It left a sticky substance behind. Battler turned round, glaring, to see Beato poking him with the pointed part of the quill still covered in ink.

"H-hey, you monster!" Battler said, pouting. "You really don't know how to treat a man, do you?"

"Hmn?~" Beatrice feigned a look of innocent confusion. "Man?~ I don't see a real man standing right before me..." She echoed Battler's words from earlier with a teasing smile. "What about you, Teacher? Do you know what this creature is talking about?"

"Is he a man? I suppose that depends on your definition of the word... Ohoho~"

"Urgh. You two are terrible, teasing me like this," said Battler, taking the quill from Beato. "I thought you were above this kind of childish behavior, Virgilia! I'm ashamed!"

"I'm terribly sorry, sir. Ohoho~"

"I'm not. Kekekeke!"

Battler shook his head at this immature comment from Beatrice. Honestly- some people never grew up. Not even after they shifted through corpses on their hands and knees. Then again...

Battler wouldn't have Beatrice any other way.

The quill, pinched between Battler's inexpert, clumsy fingers (using a pen was so much easier), trembled as it pressed against the paper. Battler hadn't managed to control it just yet, so it left a large blot of ink behind that nearly soaked through the page.

"Now who's the clumsy one?~"

"Be quiet, Beato! I'm trying to concentrate! If this really is an ages-old magic ceremony I want to do it right!"

His tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, Battler tried to manipulate the stupid all-style-no-substance quill so he could spell out his name...

But...

His eyes scanned up the page, past the numerous signatures (Maria had an unusually neat, cursive signature, written with the Western alphabet. Shannon's writing, meanwhile, was usually messy- though that did seem to suit her clumsy personality, the poor girl) to the text written at the top.

Huh...

Battler tilted his head to one side, his eyes narrowing.

Was this... really an invitation to the Golden Land?

That text didn't look right...

"_This documents is legal proof that all of us assembled unanimously, and with no question, recognize Beatrice as a witch," _Battler read out slowly, hesitantly.

He wondered whether he had misread that- but no. The words were plainly written on the paper, plain as day.

What about the Golden Land?

What about his happy ending?

He hadn't picked out the music for the end credits yet…!

"Hey, Beato..." said Battler, laughing nervously, as he turned to look at the blonde woman. "I-is there some mistake with the document?"

"No. It's fine."

"But, aheh... I thought we were past all this 'I'm a witch', 'no you're not' stuff?" said Battler. "I thought... I thought our game was over."

"It will be," said Beatrice insistently, the embarrassed little girl-ish tone slowly slipping from her voice. Her fingers fell over Battler's hand, forcing him to grip the quill tighter. "This game will be over when you sign this document. I promise. Look- you're the only one who hasn't written their name down."

"B-but... But..."

"Come on Battlerrr, sign it!"

"Sign it, sign itttttt~" Virgilia echoed, an eerie smile spreading across her face.

"You said you recognized me as a witch before. You said it, you definitely said it!" said Beatrice, her grip on Battler's hand tightening. "You can't go back on your word, Bahhttler! I know lots of men do that, but I thought you were different... You're an honorable man, riiiight?"

"Sign it! Sign, sign!"

The raucous, lively noise coming from the crowd in the hall ceased as Beatrice and Virgilia tried to force Battler to press quill to paper. No longer was Maria talking to the Chiester Sisters; no longer was Beelzebub bothering Gohda; no longer was Eva wailing about George's love life. Instead, everything was deadly silent- almost like a crypt. A grave.

…

It was then that Battler knew.

This wasn't a party.

It was a funeral.

His head was placed on the guillotine.

This paper was a death warrant.

And if he wrote his name on the paper, he'd be committing suicide.

He'd been tricked.

It was a trap.

All of it...

All lies.

His happiness was nothing more than a _lie_.

All of a sudden, Ronove's words from earlier- those words which had been accompanied with a kiss- resounded through Battler's head.

_'You're quite right not to trust her. Just do it more gracefully next time.'_

Idiot...

Battler was so stupid he could almost have laughed at himself.

He hadn't listened at all. He'd trusted Beatrice, regardless… and that had led to this _very _'inelegant' scene, with Beatrice twisting Battler's hand around so he could sign a stupid piece of paper.

Maybe Battler should have listened…

But if Battler couldn't trust Beatrice and he couldn't trust Virgilia, why would he trust that creepy butler?

_Maybe because… he actually seemed to care._

_Even if he couldn't understand._

* * *

><p><strong>an: **This was soo much fun to write I don't even :D All the characters!~~ Characters /everywhere/! And the seven stakes, too~  
>There are so many references to random favorite pairings of mine, too :D<p>

Yeah this was a break from the claustrophobic only-Ronove-and-Battler mood created in the first three chapters. I wanted some Beatrice and Battler interaction, too... cause anything that involves Battler kind of has to involve Beato on principle X3 This part in the story is also kind of important for Battler's perception of Beato later on, too...

And yeah, it probably wasn't totally necessary to rewrite this scene for this fic, 'cause everybody knows what happens and I could've skipped it out and just gone straight on to the 'what happened next' part with my OTP X3 But I love this scene. So, yeah. This chapter wasn't necessary, but the reaction after it is quite important... And I don't want to skip all of Bahhhttler's interactions with Beato XD

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	5. Keep smiling

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Keep smiling

* * *

><p>A lie.<p>

It was all a lie.

Battler winced. He should have seen that coming. It was so obvious with the gift of hindsight (though common sense would have worked just as well- but Battler was running critically low on that, obviously), that Beato would never change like that. Black pieces did not suddenly become white in chess. It was the same principle.

Beatrice was Battler's opponent.

His enemy.

She wouldn't change.

It was really that simple.

Beatrice was a sadistic witch who liked to play with her food before she ate it; pushing people around on some magical chessboard and manoeuvring them into almost impermeable closed rooms before she dealt them the finishing blow. Wide eyes and a show of innocence wouldn't change that; it wouldn't change _anything_.

But Battler had fallen for it all the same.

What an idiot.

Well… he'd always had a weakness for attractive girls with teary eyes, and when Beato said so softly 'h-have I been a help, Battler?' whilst searching through corpses he just couldn't help his heart from melting. How could he have mocked her efforts when she'd tried so hard?

He couldn't.

That wouldn't be the gentlemanly thing to do.

Battler just _had_ to play at being the hero, 'saving' Beatrice from the evil witch and her sexy rabbit girl guards (the last phrase hurt Battler's head, but he tried not to think about it too much. That was the easiest way to deal with the weird).

And that was where Battler had fallen down.

He'd had been so busy caught up in being the hero he'd forgotten that the real witch he wanted to defeat was the girl he was trying to save.

Behind Beatrice's small smiles lurked that insane laughter and childish cruelty. It had never disappeared; Battler had merely stopped looking for it. He'd stopped looking because he _wanted_ to trust her. He was tired of being trapped in this white world with no friends or allies, nobody to talk to.

He'd… been naïve.

Battler couldn't trust Beatrice.

It seemed so obvious now, but before… Well. He hadn't been thinking clearly.

Ronove had said as much (well... he'd said it in a handful of words, but that was what he meant). He'd explicitly told Battler not to trust Beatrice. Battler had laughed. At the time, he'd thought the mere notion of placing one iota of confidence in that so-called 'witch' was about as sensible as taunting a hungry lion. Of course he'd never do anything that ridiculous. He wasn't incredibly intelligent, but he wasn't _suicidal._

And yet, despite common sense and despite that warning, Battler had still done it.

He still trusted her.

And look where it had ended up.

Stupid. He really was _stupid_. At this point, Beatrice almost had a right to laugh at him. He'd wandered straight into her trap whilst knowing she was attempting to ensnare him- and he'd still been caught.

He might as well have just thrown the game right from the beginning.

Battler forgot just how dangerous Beatrice was.

Well... he'd never make that mistake again.

Battler winced, fingers crunching into too-tight fists that actually hurt. He stared at the blindingly white wall of his room. It was kind of strange that the meta world had places to rest, given it and all its residents shouldn't have existed, but Battler didn't care. He was thankful he actually had somewhere he could escape from Beato and her servants. He needed to be alone with his thoughts.

He couldn't let Beato see him when he was still semi-depressed and not quite his usual, smiling self. As a matter of masculine pride he wouldn't start crying and wailing 'it's useless' in front of her so easily! At least, not again.

He wouldn't let her defeat him.

He _refused _to lose.

Right. He just needed to smile- to force himself into a carefree, happy state like usual- and then Beato would be unable to touch him. He wasn't upset by what she'd done; not at all. It wasn't like she betrayed him because they were never friends to begin with. Battler had hoped…

But that didn't matter now.

Smile.

He had to smile.

…It was a lot more difficult than it used to be. That was kind of worrying.

"Muuu…" Battler sighed, throwing himself back down on his bed with a soft _thwump. _

If he'd paused to think he would have realized he'd stolen that disappointed 'muu' sound was stolen directly from Beatrice, but it was probably best he didn't notice.

Staring up at the too-white ceiling- blinding white spots flickering underneath his eyelids- Battler began to prod at his cheeks with his fingers. He forced a smile- more like a grimace- by pulling his mouth wide with his fingers.

_Ha… I used to do this to Ange all the time when she was grumpy. I think she bit me once. But it always made her smile in the end._

_I wonder… if I'll ever see her again…_

_I wonder if she misses me._

_As her big brother, I really should return home soon. I'm not being fair to Ange. I need to keep going because of her- even if I never see her again…_

Battler's pulled his fingers from his mouth, but the small smile stayed. It was bittersweet; filled with happiness over his memories, and sadness over the thought he would never see his baby sister (who wasn't really a baby anymore, but she was so cute and short and frail and sickly Battler couldn't see her any other way) again.

He never even got to say goodbye to her.

Another sigh. "Geez. This place is making me cynical. I feel like I'm losing all my childhood youth and innocence! …Great." Battler wrinkled up his nose. "And now I'm talking to myself."

"Mm, that is quite troublesome. Perhaps you should have a conversation with me instead."

Battler started at the sound of this voice. Pulling himself into a sitting position- moving so hastily he very nearly fell off the bed head-first- Battler spun round, hair messy and mouth flickering indecisively between a half-smile, a frown and an 'o' of surprise (it truly was a sight to see).

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ronove, not sounding very sorry at all. "Did I disturb you?"

Battler's mouth twitched a few more times before- finally- he settled on a pout. Battler wasn't really aware he was pouting, and he didn't realize how childish he looked either, or he would have stopped (probably); his face just seemed to form expressions like that when he was annoyed.

"Haven't you people ever heard of _knocking_? It works with this amazing new invention called a _door_. Maybe you should use it," said Battler, glaring.

"How forgetful of me. I really should take that into consideration next time." A teasing smile. "However, if I knocked on the door, I doubt you'd answer."

"…No, probably not," said Battler. "And I can't imagine _why _that would be. It's not like you guys have, oh, I don't know, subjected me to the continuous murder of my family _over and over again _or anything, now, is it? All things considered, I think I have a _right _to some privacy after what you… you…"

But words failed Battler. He'd never been very good at speaking to begin with, and it was made all the more difficult when he was caught up between a strange mix of misery and irritation.

Battler's mouth opened and closed like a fish- before, finally, he gave up trying to speak. Instead, he reached over and grabbed a pillow from his bed, hugging it to his chest and resting his head on it. It was somewhat comforting.

Ronove's smile softened slightly as he watched Battler. He didn't look teasing anymore; instead, he merely seemed… concerned?

No.

It couldn't be.

Battler was seeing things again.

"Perhaps you have a point," said Ronove. "I imagine Milady's actions in the previous game were quite upsetting- especially as you appeared to trust her. It was quite heart warming to observe the two of you working so well together! Pu ku ku… That is, if one forgets what occurred afterwards."

"I can't forget it."

"No. I didn't think you could. Hence the pillow?"

Battler squished his pillow tighter to his chest. It was nice and warm, even if was an inanimate object that couldn't actually comfort him.

Battler used to hug Ange all the time…

Not that tightly, though, or he'd probably hurt her.

"Leave the pillow out of this," Battler muttered, resting his head against it. "S'got nothing to do with you."

"I do apologize," said Ronove, bowing his head. "I merely thought, given your distress, that you could have a conversation with me? Surely that would be better than talking to yourself." Another smile. Did he ever _stop_ smiling? "It will make you feel less… insane… to talk while another person listens. I'll even nod my head and say 'that must be terrible' in all the right places, if you wish."

Battler's lips quirked into a small smile at these words- but the memory of Virgilia and Beato, cackling with their mouths pulled wide like Halloween pumpkins', was enough to kill that small attempt at a smile.

He couldn't trust these people.

None of them.

The only creature he had left was this pillow, and it wasn't even _real_. Being in the meta world really _did_ screw with your head.

"Yeah, that'd be fun, wouldn't it? I'm sure you want to hear a first hand account of exactly how I felt when Beato turned about and stabbed me in the back- which was fucking _terrible_, if you're really interested. But you'd probably think that was funny; the highlight of your evening. Let's see how many pathetic, miserable faces Bahhhhttler can make as we tear his hopes away from before his eyes! Was it something like that? I bet you and Virgilia and those big boobed sisters had a loaddd of fun at my expense."

Battler was breathing heavily when he finished speaking and his face was slightly flushed. He was trembling.

Even so, he had to admit…

It felt nice, being able to shout- not entirely making sense or being fully coherent- whilst somebody was actually there to listen. It didn't even matter if that 'person' was a very loose definition of a 'person', given Ronove shouldn't have existed at all…

Having somebody to talk to- or shout at, as it were- was… calming.

Almost relaxing.

Battler doubted Beato would let him shout at her like that; not without interrupting or bursting into a fit of insane laughter.

"Ah… Let me assure you, Battler, I'm not sadistic enough to laugh at your plight. I may be a demon, so it is difficult for me to fully understand your emotions… but I do sympathize with you." A smile; a small laugh. "I believe I've already said that."

"And you also said I shouldn't trust you." Battler sighed. "I… don't know what to do. Maybe I should just accept I really _am_ alone and you guys are all horrible, horrible people. Then I won't feel so _awful_ when you turn about and betray me because I'll have seen it all coming."

"Cynicism like that seems strangely out of place coming from your mouth… I think I preferred it when you were more trusting."

"Why?" Battler quirked a brow. "So you could tear apart that innocence by trying to steal more unwelcome kisses?"

"Hm? You still remember that?"

"Well, _yeah_, of course I do. It was disturbing!" said Battler, throwing the pillow at Ronove's face. Unfortunately, Beato's butler managed to catch it, without even blinking an eye. Stupid meta world demons and their stupid reflexes… It would've been kind of funny to catch Ronove off guard with a pillow to the head, too…

"I mean, I've had bigger things to worry about since then, but I didn't _forget_," Battler continued. "I just tried to push it from my mind. Before it emotionally scarred me."

Ronove laughed softly, turning the pillow over in his hands. "I hope it wasn't _that_ bad."

Battler smirked. "It kind of _was_."

"Ah, you do wound my feelings so, Battler! I was merely teasing you. Please don't take it to heart. If I was being serious it would have been quite different, I'm sure…"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop talking about this stuff right now!" said Battler, holding his hands up before his face and backing away slowly. "This is getting kind of creepy! Stop trying to traumatize me! Not even Beato would be _this_ cruel, ihihihi!"

W-wait…

He was actually… laughing?

Battler's eyes widened. His fingers pressed against his mouth in confusion- but it was true. Having a conversation with Ronove, Beato's creepy butler, had managed to make him smile. It had been so difficult trying to force a smile mere seconds before, but now it was easy.

Battler… actually _liked _spending time with Beato's butler.

…This was slightly worrying.

Not to mention very, very disturbing.

Battler shuddered.

"Why are you here anyway?" asked Battler. "Did you just want to laugh at my unhappiness, or was there something more to it?"

"I never intended to laugh at your unhappiness. That would be unnecessarily cruel," said Ronove, feigning hurt. "Moreover, it would be foolish of me to attempt to break one of Milady's opponents without her permission. I imagine she would be quite angry if I was ever so impudent."

"So… you're only being nice to me so Beato can break me down later?" Battler smiled. "Haha… That's nice to know."

"Of course, that's not the only reason why I'm talking to you. I would be genuinely… well, perhaps not 'upset', but… disappointed… if you were truly unable to recover from the previous game. It's rather dull around here most of the time. You make it more interesting."

"Who? Me? I'm the most important person here?" Battler paused… and then, he smiled. "Ihihi. I'll try to remain this cheerful, then! I wouldn't want to 'disappoint' you guys. I wouldn't be defeated that easily!"

"That's precisely what I thought. However, Milady was worried."

"Beato was worried about me?"

"She's quite enjoying the game between the two of you and she doesn't want it to end so soon. That is why she sent me here to see how you are- so you see, I couldn't have merely knocked on the door and waited for a response. You wouldn't reply, and I would be unable to tell Milady how you felt, and I imagine she wouldn't be too happy about that." Ronove grinned, tossing the pillow back to Battler, who caught it. "She does have quite a temper."

"I'm aware of that," said Battler. He pouted; another 'I'm-not-aware-I'm-pouting-and-actually-I'm-trying-to-frown-and-look-very-serious' expression. "But… you only came here because Beato told you to? Now I feel hurt."

"You have no need to~ I would have visited you regardless. I still have to give you breakfast."

"Ooh… that sounds good," said Battler, grinning. "Ihihi… You came to comfort me and now you're going to feed me? You'd make the perfect wife. Ihihi! I only wish the seven sisters would act like you."

"I'm sure that's high praise indeed from you, Battler. Though I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or slightly offended."

Battler only laughed.

Strangely enough, he felt… happy.

All because he had spoken to Ronove?

…But that was so bizarre Battler didn't dwell on that thought for too long.


	6. Third kiss

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Third Kiss

* * *

><p>"Ah~ The look on her face was so <em>pathetic<em>."

"Too funny!~ Seriously funny!~~ Fufufufufu~"

"Kyahahaha!"

Battler's fingers clenched into fists. His eyes narrowed with anger, but they were also filled with tears. H-his sister had... for him...

Images of Ange, his funny, quirky, unusually serious but incredibly sweet little sister, filled his mind. All the times they used to bake cookies together... When Battler tucked Ange up and read her bedtime stories until she fell asleep... When he'd given her those pink hair ties- cheap and plastic, that clanked together dully, but Ange's smile had been almost luminous...

She'd still worn those hair ties even as 'Gretel'; her face mature (she wasn't little Ange anymore; she was an adult- a bitter one); eyes permanently narrowed; lips pursed in a small frown.

She... never stopped wearing those hair ties.

She never forgot about her big brother.

Even when she di... di... _died_- even then (although it pained Battler to think about it; chunks of flesh breaking from her body and blood drip-drip-dripping onto the white floor in crimson rivulets), Ange had been thinking only of Battler. She'd looked directly at his face when she...

Disappeared.

_"I-I... I love you, big brother! I-I always have!"_

_"A-ange..."_

_"Y-you definitely need to win... b-because somebody is waiting for you! I'm still wai- uhn... a-ah..."_

Ange's voice had broken off into small whimpers; muffled by the steady trickle of blood as it bubbled underneath her splayed fingers- but her fingers were being eaten away, too, as some disgusting rot crept through Ange's body. It devoured her insides and spat that right back out again.

Ange didn't even look human at the end.

Just a pile of meat.

A sharp gasp tore itself from Battler's throat, his eyes burning, tears spilling down his cheeks- and, d-damn it, he promised he wouldn't cry, not anymore... b-but how the fuck was he supposed to remain emotionless when he'd just seen his little sister... h-his sister...

Ange had died for him.

She'd sacrificed herself because he was an idiot- a complete _moron_- a-and Battler had only been playing Beato's 'game' so he could save his relatives and return home, but he couldn't do it (you're _incompetent_) so Ange had stepped in to help him-

A-and she'd _died_.

Battler had wanted to protect his friends, protect his family, protect **Ange**- return to her in the future, all cheer and smiles, whilst he tugged at her cute pigtails and said 'I _told_ you I'd come back' with his usual sharp-toothed grin and laugh; 'ihihi~ You didn't need to be worried.'

But Battler... didn't come back.

At least, not to _that_ Ange.

B-but Ange wasn't the only one who'd been hurt.

There was Beato, too.

Beato, the cruel Golden Witch with her wide smiles and insane laughter, hadn't been laughing all that much; not really...

_"This game is... boring now," said Beatrice, her blue eyes curiously empty; just like the sea on a dismal, rainy day and... ihihi, fuck, was Battler waxing sentimental over her _eyes _now because he hadn't learnt his lesson last time?_

_Beato was a heartless bitch. This was just another new ploy so she could win; another twist in the story that meant nothing._

_But... It didn't look like an act._

_Granted, last time hadn't either, but..._

_"I don't want to play anymore," said Beatrice quietly- though her voice was still audible above the stormy weather and torrential rain falling against her game board, where everything was slowly falling apart in a confused haze of blood and violence. "I... just want to sleep. That's it. Just... sleep... and forget this ever happened."_

_Beatrice had never sounded so defeated before._

And she'd never _looked_ so defeated either, when Battler threw whatever theories he had to hand at her, no matter how deranged they were. M-maybe his brain had broken just a little, given the memory of his poor sister.

All that red, so much red; red, red, red, a-and her face had _melted_ off a-and she didn't even get a proper burial; she just dissolved away into _nothing_, as though Ange had less worth than thin air- b-but she was Battler's sister, damn it! Damn, damn, _damn..._

Battler had thrown blue truth after blue truth at Beato; a machine gun, just as 'Gretel' had told him with that smug smile on her face.

At first, Battler had... not 'hated', but disliked Gretel; especially as she appeared so self-sure and confident. I-it was only after he learnt who she really was ('_I love you, big brother... D-don't you recognize me at all?'_) that Battler realized she looked proud when she explained crucial information because she wanted to help.

She'd only ever wanted to help her big brother.

Her stupid, incompetent big brother.

And look how that ended.

Battler beat Beatrice around as if she were a ragdoll- truths piercing through her body in physical form; she vomited up blood, too- red, red, red- ihihi, can't stand to be on the receiving end can you, Beaatooo?~~ ...But Battler no longer felt like an opponent in a chess game, and Beato no longer felt like an opponent. Instead, Battler felt...

Empty.

He'd killed Beatrice- pierced through her heart and torn it from her chest- a-and he didn't feel a thing; it didn't _matter_. He hadn't 'won' the game because Beato had merely given up. There was no feeling of triumph, no victory fanfare, no... no happiness at all.

Ange died.

Beato died.

Of course, Battler always knew she would... but her death felt anti-climatic, somehow, and... strangely sad. When Beato's body was being pierced by truth, dripping red (that was just what happened in a witches' game, because they didn't play fair and their 'truth' was always accompanied by pain as more and more blades denied their fragile existences), Battler couldn't help but feel... almost sorry for her.

She hadn't looked so strong then.

Just a... frightened girl in over her head?

Beatrice wasn't the real monster. S-she had goaded Battler, insulted him, humiliated him and broken him down; ground him to the dirt and pushed him to the brink of insanity, just so she could laugh her high-pitched 'gyahahaha~' and push him about some more ("know your place, furrr~nitureee~")

And yet… there had been something soft about her.

Something human.

The _real_ monsters were the two grinning figures stood before him.

"Mannn, people today are so flashy~" complained Lambdadelta, rolling her eyes. "They're all 'I need to make my loved one appreciate me! What can I do? I know- I'll commit suicide!' It's so stuuuuupid. If you _die _you're not gonna be able to stick around and see the result, riiiight?"

"I can't _stand_ martyrs," Bernkastel agreed, giggle giggle giggle, a cruel smile twisting her lips. "Then again, their sacrifices are somewhat amusing..."

"Yes~ It was decent entertainment! I mean, her face _melted off_! Kukuku~ I wish I'd had some popcorn!"

"Such a stupid girl~"

"Just like her brother then, huhh?"

"And poor, _pooooor_ Beato. Ahhh- I guess she turned out to be a boring martyr, too."

"Well, I was certain it'd end up that way anyway. That silly child never knew what was best for her! How else d'you think she was born? Kukuku~"

"Fwahahahakikiki!~~"

"S-shut up! Shut up, shut up!"

Shouting so loudly he thought his vocal chords might tear (his throat already felt strained; raw), Battler ran forwards, roughly taking Bernkastel's shoulders. He intended to smack her back against the wall- shaking her until he knocked that teasing smile off her smug face- but... his hands sank right through her. Battler's palms hit the white wall behind her… and that was it.

There was no flesh against flesh; his fingers didn't dig into her shoulders.

Bernkastel was gone.

Battler turned about, feeling disoriented, whilst a dense pain ran through the palms of his hands. Bernkastel was stood before him, cat tail flicking softly against the floor, as though she had never moved.

"Such a stupid child~" said Bernkastel, smiling coldly, "You really think I'd let a pitiful person like _you_ touch_ me_?~"

"You're not worthy of the honor~" cooed Lambdadelta. She spoke as if she were conversing with a very young, very stupid child. Sniggering, Lambda wrapped her arms round Bern's waist, resting her head atop the witches' shoulder. "Only_ IIII_ can touch Bern~ Don't try it again or I'll break all your fingers."

Battler's rage caught up in his throat; stoppering his mouth. He couldn't talk. He was so angry he could hardly breathe.

It...

It _hurt_.

H-he couldn't play Beato's 'game' against these witches; t-this game board didn't belong to them! Battler didn't want Beato's carefully assembled pieces to fall into their hands (they were his friends and family; his _relatives_; the people he'd known since birth and the people he _loved_). Beato had played a cruel game, but Battler knew- as he watched Lambdadelta press light kisses against Bernkastel's pale neck- that these witches were even worse.

H-he couldn't stay there; he felt sick, claustrophobic.

There was too much to think about, and his head just wasn't big enough to wrap itself round all of it.

Ha...

Ihihihi...

There was always too much to think about.

Maybe he really _was_ stupid.

It was with that thought that Battler vanished in a cloud of golden butterflies.

* * *

><p>"...Battler?"<p>

"Haha..." Battler laughed emotionlessly, his head in his hands. He didn't bother to look up; he would have known the sound of that voice anywhere. "I should've figured you'd find me here. This is beginning to become a bit of routine, isn't it?"

"You speak as if my company is a bad thing," said Ronove lightly, taking a seat beside Battler. "Why, I'm hurt."

"Tch." Battler rolled his eyes- though the effect was rather lost, given his face was nestled in his arms, away from the views of others. It was a bit of a wasted effort. Then again... most things seemed to be.

God. This was so _miserable_.

Battler said, voice muffled slightly, "Well, you're not the _only_ one who's hurt. I think my pain might be a _little_ bit greater than yours, though."

"I didn't realize this was a competition."

"If it _was_, it's something I'd definitely win at- for once. I guess every cloud has a silver lining, ihihi..." It was a phrase Battler had picked up from his mother, Asumu. Somehow, it seemed fitting to use it here (especially as he'd already spammed the 'let's turn over the chessboard!' saying from Kyrie multiple times in the past. Asumu deserved a little representation too).

"Mm, well... It is true you've suffered more than one of your age is expected to. I suppose, as all my hardships extend for one thousand years, yours have been concentrated in a small amount of time. Hmn…"

Battler couldn't see Ronove's expression, but he wondered if Beato's butler (would that be ex-butler now, given Beato was... ... never mind) was still smiling. Probably not- unless he really was a sadist.

This mild intrigue was enough to make Battler lift his head.

Ronove looked oddly serious for once- an indication, if ever there was one, that everything really _had_ gone to hell ever since those two lolita witches stole Beato's game board. Somehow, Battler... didn't like that expression. It made him feel that, yes, everything really _was_ useless. Things must have been _pre~tty _bad if not even _Ronove_ wanted to smile.

"Stop that," said Battler, glaring at Ronove.

"Stop what? I wasn't aware I was doing anything particularly offensive."

Battler frowned. Then- reaching forwards across the table, giving little thought to what he was doing- Battler cupped Ronove's cheek with one of his hands. Battler's eyes were still rimmed with red, but he'd already cried out pretty much all of his tears before Ronove arrived. Even so, Battler was shaking, his cheeks red, his breath catching in his chest; exhaling unevenly.

I-it... still _hurt_...

Ange.

H-he would never-

But Ronove's skin under his fingertips was warm, strangely comforting. Battler was able to calm his breathing as, gently, the feather-light touch of his fingertips moved down ROnove's cheekbone.

_What on earth are you doing? _Battler's brain asked scathingly- but the answer was obvious.

Forgetting.

Battler... didn't want to remember Ange, o-or Beatrice, or his family, left in the hands of the self-proclaimed 'cruellest witches'. H-he didn't want... t-to think at all.

It took far too much energy, and he was already so tired.

"Stop looking so sad," Battler muttered, voice barely a whisper. He didn't need to talk with his usual energy, given Ronove's face was only inches from his- but he doubted he could, anyway. "It's pissing me off. You're... making me feel bad. _Worse_. A-and I didn't know that was possible. Ihihi..."

"Battler..."

Ronove's voice was equally soft- strangely sensuous- as his own fingers reached about Battler's wrist, slowly pushing Battler's hand away.

"Battler, you... might not want to take my advice. I would understand if you didn't, given how you must be feeling-"

"Even if you don't understand yourself," said Battler dryly. "That's a line you like to use a lot, huh? Makes me wonder if I should listen to you at all."

"By all means, you don't have to."

Somehow, Battler felt... bereft... when Ronove drew his fingers away. Battler w-wanted some human contact right now; he just wanted to forget about Ange and Beatrice and _everybody else_ even if that wasn't a very heroic thing to do- b-but, fuck, how was _he_ meant to save everyone when he screwed everything up? Ange had to step in and, a-and...

Battler's body began to tremble. Useless, it really was _useless_.

"Perhaps I do understand," said Ronove, reaching forwards; fingertips brushing under Battler's eyes and, ha, Battler hadn't even _realized_ he was crying but apparently so, because tears beaded Ronove's fingers when he drew back. "I assume you are... upset, yes?"

"Oh, well done. How on earth did you deduce that?" asked Battler- though he couldn't help but smile a sad, lopsided smile at this very obvious comment.

"Just my natural instinct~" said Ronove lightly, also smiling. "I wanted to make sure."

"T-this isn't like one of Beato's mind games, you know. You don't need to guarantee all the facts or make me state stuff in red. I-I feel fucking _awful_; what more is there to say? It's the truth, a-and I think it's pretty obvious, too. Ahhh..." Battler sighed- inadvertently leaning in to Ronove's touch. His eyelids flickered close at the contact, his erratic breathing calming somewhat. "F-fuck..."

"Mm. You have a very precise manner of stating your emotions. That's why I like humans~ They're so straightforward, pu ku ku~"

Battler blinked, his eyes opening. Then, he glared. "W-well, anybody would be upset after... a-after... y-you know."

"Of course. It's only to be expected. But Battler. You shouldn't simply give up."

"W-why not?"

"I believe you already tried to escape Milady's game once before... and the outcome wasn't particularly good."

Battler shuddered as memories ran through his mind. Being forced to wear a chain and being gored by Beato's goat butlers came to mind.

"Imagine if you surrendered whilst the game master was Lady Lambdadelta. She is far crueller than Milady in almost every respect- even to her allies, if the rumors about her... relationship with Lady Bernkastel is to be believed."

Battler smirked at this. "So... a kinky lesbian love affair, huh? Ihihihi~ I think one of them did mention something about honey."

"Well, I wouldn't phrase it quite like that, but, once more, your lack of tact and elegance has allowed you to be rather more truthful than most people," said Ronove, smiling.

"Hey..." Battler frowned. "Was that an insult or a compliment?"

"You'll have to ask yourself that."

"I'm kind of sick of all these pointless enigmatic phrases, you know."

Ronove laughed. "It comes with being a demon~"

"...That makes me glad to be human, then. If I had to use fifty words like you when one'd be fine, I think I'd go _mad_."

"Which would be very interesting to see, I'm sure~ Aah, but if you surrendered to Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta, I'm sure they could punish you in ways that really _would_ break you. They don't like their fun being interrupted. And... I quite like the current Ushiromiya Battler." Ronove grinned, prodding Battler on the tip of his nose with a fingertip. "Just the way you are. Impulsiveness, crudeness, naïveté and all~"

Battler laughed, batting Ronove's hand away. "Now I _know _you're trying to insult me. And you do it with such a warm smile, too! That's pretty low, ihihi."

"I'm merely telling the truth~"

"I don't believe you. I don't believe _anything _you guys say. Apart from maybe the stuff about those two witches. That seemed somewhat plausible." Mainly because the idea of gothic lolita lesbians was kind of hot.

"Ahh~ It's a sad thing our friendship is built on mistrust and lies."

"We don't have a _friendship."_

"So... You would let a person you despise do this?"

And with that, a teasing smile on his face, Ronove pressed his lips against Battler's; pulling him into a quick kiss.

Battler's eyes widened at the feeling of Ronove's lips against his. Somehow, through his shock, the close contact was… a-ah, well…

I-it was somewhat comforting.

Even if Battler didn't believe in demons or witches, this soft sensation let him believe- in only for a few seconds- this… really was happening. He wasn't hallucinating. How (and why) would Battler dream of something like this?

Warm…

I-it was so soft and warm…

Battler, against his better judgement, couldn't help but sigh softly into the kiss- even though it only lasted a few moments.

"Hm, I suppose that'll be the third time~" said Ronove, grinning, as he drew back from a very surprised Battler. "This really is quite fun, you know~"

"Ah... Y-you bastard," Battler said, words breaking apart in his mouth, as his fingers pressed against his lower lip. He wasn't sure how to react- apart from acting angry, of course… T-though he didn't mind too much. "T-that's really not what friends do either- unless this is some weird 'demon' custom."

"It's not~ I was merely having fun. But... you didn't push me away."

"T-that's because I was _surprised_. You didn't give me enough time to-"

But Battler was silenced when one of Ronove's fingertips fell against his lower lip.

"Please don't say such cruel things, Battler~ For now, why don't you let me assume you enjoyed yourself so I won't be tempted to try again, hmm?"

Ronove's teasing grin was nothing short of infuriating. And yet, even so...

Battler... wasn't as disgusted as he should have been. He didn't respond to Ronove's comment; instead, he merely glared- but deep down, he... he...

H-he'd wanted Ronove to distract him- a-and that was a pretty _good _distraction.

"Come on, Battler," said Ronove, threading his fingers through Battler's and pulling him to his feet. "I believe you've been allowed to mope for a significant amount of time. When you fail to pull yourself from these moods with a large smile I begin to worry."

"You _worry _about me?"

"Aah~ Such in the nature of one who is helplessly infatuated with you."

"Y-you... w-wait, _what_?"

Ronove only laughed. "I'm _joking_. You really have to learn not to take everything so seriously~ Although, if you did become more cynical, that would be a little disappointing... I wouldn't be able to tease you anymore~ And you really look so charming when you're blushing."

"I'm not blushing!" said Battler; an automatic denial even though his cheeks were beginning to burn, and he could _feel _it. "W-was that a joke, too?"

"Mm... No, I was being serious that time."

Battler groaned. His head was beginning to hurt. "I can't keep track of you people at all. Just... say whatever you want- I'm past caring."

"I might take you up on that offer later~"

"Oh, I'm so _excited_," said Battler. "Honestly, though... Where are we going?"

"I thought it would have been obvious," said Ronove, looking over his shoulder at Battler. Already, Ronove's lower body was beginning to break up into a cloud of golden butterflies. "We are going to see Milady. I imagine she's lonely without you."

"Lonely? But she-"

"Is asleep. In a sense. I believe Lady Lambdadelta already explained this- but Milady is unable to leave this game, even though she has been defeated. She's not asleep, but... hmn. Not quite awake, either. And I believe she wants to see you."

"Ahaha... W-won't that be a little awkward, considering I tried to kill her?"

"Milady has a big heart. I'm sure she'll forgive you. Now, Battler~" Ronove smiled; his face inches away from Battler's. "You have to hold onto me~"

Battler's eyes widened. "_What?_"

"We have to remain in close contact or I won't be able to teleport you alongside me~ Unless... you would rather stay in this empty expanse of white by yourself? That would be as good as giving up- and that wouldn't be an interesting conclusion to Milady's game. She would be very upset. As would I. I... like it when you start fighting back. Pu ku ku~"

"Fine, fine," said Battler, glaring. "Although that last line sounded incredibly creepy."

"It's a talent~"

And, with that final comment, Battler wrapped his arms round Ronove's middle and buried his head in the crook of his shoulder. I-it was embarrassing enough that he had to do something like that- Battler didn't want Ronove seeing how flushed he'd become, either.

That would just be _humiliating._

Maybe worse than any punishment Bernkastel and Lambdadelta could inflict upon him.

As Battler's heart hammered in his chest, breath catching in his throat as golden butterflies spilled through the air about him, Battler thought.

He... couldn't surrender now.

He had to keep on going.

For Ange.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Banter banter banter :3  
>This fic is weird/ XD It kind of alternates between really depressing & then more cheerfuru XD; I think it has multiple personality disorder and can't decide what to settle on… XD  
>Or… maybe I'm just not very good at writing… XDD<p>

**~renahhchen xoxoxo**


	7. A brief respite

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>A brief respite

* * *

><p>He had to keep thinking. This game would only truly end if he gave up- and he'd come so far, witnessed so many horrible events. His family and friends had died over and over again because of his stubborn nature and his refusal to let that witch defeat him. Their sacrifices would mean nothing if he hung his head in shame and refused to keep trying.<p>

His opponent was different now and Bernkastel was far crueller than Beato had been, with her dead eyes and insane smiles. Battler wouldn't let Beato's game board- and, by extension, the people he wanted to protect- fall into her hands. He couldn't...

He refused to let that happen.

He had to keep thinking.

Couldn't stop thinking.

He couldn't give in, even though he knew he looked an awful lot like the loser. It wasn't over… until his mind stopped working and his heart ceased beating.

A spear of red truth pierced through his mouth, his body skewered through and through; pinning him in place like a helpless, dying butterfly on a board. It hurt to breathe; cold metal (_was_ it metal? Probably not; if Dlanor's red sword was made of any earthly material it wouldn't have been so deadly) running through his tongue, and every time his chest rose and fell he could taste blood bubbling inside his mouth- probably deeper inside his body, too.

The pain never went away. Instead, it rose and fell, like breaking waves- in and out... Sometimes it hurt so much he could barely think at all; white-hot agony that plagued his mind and bit into every part of his skin.

Sometimes, he wished he was dead- but he couldn't let that happen.

He hovered on the brink of an abyss. One misplaced step and he'd fall right in. It would be so easy; so simple to turn his mind off and surrender.

But humans weren't electrical appliances, and they didn't give up, gut at, at the flick of a switch.

He won't lose that easily.

His masculine pride- n-no, more than that, his _human decency _and his sense of right and wrong wouldn't allow that!

He couldn't betray everyone,

He couldn't betray Ange, who had _died_ for him. The memory of Ange's body breaking apart, fragmenting into bloody chunks of meat, made Battler cringe.

She'd probably been in more pain than he was right now.

And...

He couldn't betray Beato.

This was her game board. She'd set it up herself as a mystery novelist pondered over their scenarios; with love and care, and a desire to make a fair fight. Battler was going to win it back for her. He might have looked pretty pathetic right then, one of Dlanor's red wedges pinning him to the floor whilst blood drip-drip-dripped from his mouth, down his chin, onto the white floor with a splish-splash symphony, but... he wasn't going to give in. This was just the tip of the iceberg compared to all the other horrible trials Beato had put him through; his was _nothing_ compared to being eaten alive by rabid goat-headed monsters, or staked continuously by those good-looking sisters with nice... assets.

This was a piece of cake.

Battler would keep himself alive through sheer stubbornness- and what a shock that would be to Bernkastel and Lambdadelta (although, if Beato was still alive, and not doing a very good impression of 'Sleeping Beauty', she would've found that funny; thick-headed obstinance was what she'd grown to expect from Ushiromiya Battler).

Battler was going to take back Beato's game board.

He was going to defeat Bernkastel and Lambdadelta.

He was going to save Beato.

And he wasn't going to stop thinking.

Although it sounded corny, he could almost feel the light dawn upon him as he forcefully cast his mind back, far back- as far back as it would go.

A smiling face.

A girl.

A promise.

A sin from six years ago.

B-but…

Battler gasped- but it wasn't a dying choke or a final breath. Instead, it was the sound of one who… understood. Who understood… everything… as all the pieces fell into place; click, click, click, until the full jigsaw was spread out before him.

B-but no…

No…

T-that couldn't be the real answer… could it?

It _couldn't_ be…

* * *

><p>"Hn. Now this is a surprise."<p>

"What is?" asked Battler tiredly, taking a seat at the kitchen table. "I thought this was beginning to become a little predictable myself... ihihi."

"Mm... We really should stop meeting each other like this."

"Damn right. Ihihi…" Battler laughed another tired laugh, resting his head in his hands. "But there aren't that many places to go around here, and it keeps getting even more crowded. This place is nice and quiet."

"Ahh. So you weren't seeking me out yourself, but it was merely chance you stumbled upon me?" asked Ronove, smiling. "Is our encounter here a coincidence?"

Battler didn't reply.

"At any rate," Ronove continued, his voice carefully light, "the previous times you were in need of comfort I had to find you. This is a welcome change."

"How'd you know I need 'comfort'?"

"The look on your face. It's incredibly depressing," said Ronove dryly, still smiling.

Another tired laugh. "Ihihi… Damn it. I would've thought, after all my games with Beato, I'd have developed something of a poker face."

"Your honest, open face is far preferable to that. It is because you wear your heart on your sleeve I was able to note you needed a helping hand earlier, pu ku ku…"

"Yeah. Well, I appreciate your 'helping hand' a lot," said Battler. It was unclear by his tone of voice whether he was being sarcastic or not. Battler wasn't even sure of the answer to that, and he didn't want to ponder it too much. It'd only give him a bigger headache.

Trying to juggle forty characters around- all the Ushiromiyas and their servants, plus Beato's demonic friends- to make a suitable story was nothing short of a headache waiting to happen; and, indeed, it already had happened. Battler had to wonder how Beato had managed it. He had a newfound respect for that witch; she was a damn good storyteller.

Then again… she had been, too.

They used to sit under the arbour in the rose garden, which hadn't been quite as beautiful six years ago as it was now, telling stories. She was… always good at reading stories.

S-she…

Beatrice…?

_I-I wish I could say 'I'm confused!' and stop thinking, like before, but… I'd just be lying to myself. Because… I understand now. That's why I'm territory lord, I guess._

_But I suppose George really was right all this time. With 'great power comes great responsibility'. Ihihi… I just wanna run around with my cousins and be a kid again._

_That's all I want._

_I don't want to know _this_- and I don't want to make a story for Bernkastel and Erika for them to tear apart, either. It feels like a waste of time._

The daunting prospect of making a decent story for the next game wasn't the only reason why Battler's brain felt like it wanted to escape his skull, however. There were... other reasons.

Things he didn't want to think about too much.

Beato's current wide-eyed, adorable state was one of them. Being called 'father' by a girl identical to the insane woman who'd stripped in front of him during the second game because 'fufufu, you're not human, only furniture' was… incredibly confusing.

_Way to send out mixed messages, Beato. Now I'm not sure if you're a nice girl pretending to be mean, a heartless bitch pretending to be nice, a witch, a servant, a childhood friend, my worst enemy or a kumquat._

Not to mention the memories; the ones from six years ago.

Her smile.

The mystery stories underneath the arbour.

The promise-

B-but no, Battler _didn't _want to mention it. He didn't know how he felt about that himself. Trying to explain something he didn't really understand to somebody like Ronove, who was always so calm and composed, would have been embarrassing.

"How are you feeling?" Ronove asked gently.

There was no reply; silence stretching between the pair. Battler stared down at the tabletop, though it was plain he wasn't really seeing it. Instead, he was lost inside his own head.

It wasn't a pleasant place to be, really.

"Ah... I suppose I can make a fairly accurate guess at your emotions without being told. Perhaps it was an insensitive question."

Another pause. Then, speaking in an unusually soft voice, Battler said, "It wasn't insensitive... Unnecessary is what I'd call it. If you want to have an argument about semantics."

"Is that what you wish?"

"Not really. I never did find correct word usage all that interesting- and searching for loopholes in all this red truth has made me like it even less," said Battler, running a hand through his hair. "I guess it'd take my mind off things, but... Then again..."

Ronove's eyes softened as he watched Battler. He looked so... _defeated_; completely unlike himself it was almost eerie. In the meta world it was rare for things to change; people and their relationships remaining the same for thousands upon thousands of years. With Battler, however, it was different. Perhaps it was because, as a human, his emotions were slightly different to a demons', and his life far shorter- but his feelings were almost completely erratic, from happiness to crushing misery in (seemingly) the blink of an eye. It was interesting to watch from a distance; and that was the main reason why witches like Lambdadelta involved themselves with humans, even if it was unnecessary.

Humans were, quite simply, fascinating; just like watching insects under a magnifying glass. Witches and demons were novel to humans, but the same could be applied in reverse.

Ronove could have watched Battler's distress with nothing more than amusement; and, indeed, his feelings towards Battler may have been more similar to that at the beginning…

But now, after Ronove had learnt more about Battler as a person, rather than an 'interesting human', he… couldn't see it like that anymore.

Ronove was too polite to have found amusement in Virgilia or Gaap's distress when they were upset- and the same could be said for Battler now.

Ronove… sympathized with him.

He didn't like it when Battler frowned.

Moreover, he was far more attractive when he smiled.

"Please don't look so miserable," said Ronove, smiling slightly (somebody had to; otherwise the atmosphere would've been far too heavy- and Ronove was used to smiling anyway). "You're breaking my heart."

Battler blinked. "Do demons _have _hearts?"

"I suppose so; otherwise I wouldn't be alive. Unless you're suggesting I'm some kind of zombie?"

"...Nah. You're too classy for that."

"Why, thank you."

"Zombies don't generally serve their victims tea."

"True. I suppose adding a scene such as that in 'Night of the Living Dead' would lessen the suspense somewhat, pu ku ku~"

"You've seen that movie too?"

Ronove nodded. "Gaap has a penchant for old horror movies. I believe the most bizarre one Virgilia and myself have been subjected to is 'Weasels Rip My Flesh'. You can tell from the title it's very classy."

"Oh, obviously," said Battler, grinning in spite of himself. "Ihihi… At least you know what you're getting with a name like that."

"And yet it made no passing reference to the shark at the end… But I suppose you can't have everything. In any case… let it be known that I have no desire to open your skull and feast on the contents inside~"

"You have such a _charming _way of putting it. I guess there wouldn't be enough inside my head to make a decent meal, though" said Battler, still grinning. Why was idle conversation with Ronove so much… fun?

Maybe anything would seem 'fun' in comparison to being subjugated to awful tortures by Beatrice and then Bernkastel- but…

Honestly, Battler would have found a conversation like this 'fun' during a normal school day, with one of his real friends.

"That's what Beato would say. Ihihi... Although..." Battler's nose wrinkled up slightly in confusion. "Since when did you start saying 'let it be known'?"

"Ahh, my apologizes. It appears I've been spending too much time with the members of Eiserne Jungfrau."

"Those girls were pretty hot. Just don't go insane and try to stab me; I only just recovered from one 'blade-through-the-mouth' incident. I don't think I could handle another one so soon. Even if I am incredible."

"I'll keep that in mind," said Ronove. With that, he took a seat beside Battler (the cookie dough he'd been rolling out for Virgilia and Gaap could wait). "So... I'm aware I already asked this, and I'm aware the answer might be one you don't want to divulge- but I'm extremely curious. How _are_ you feeling?"

"Awful."

"Even after our conversation?"

"Well..." Battler reconsidered. "Perhaps one level up from awful. It's still pretty bad, though. I don't think your demonic charm and wit can help much more."

"You think I'm charming?" asked Ronove. For a few brief moments, he looked honestly surprised. "I was under the impression you found me incredibly irritating."

"Yeah, I do- but you're pretty much the only person around here I can have a conversation with," said Battler. He sighed. "Who knows. Maybe you've grown on me. Or maybe I'm going insane. I did try and find you myself this time- so if you annoy me now I'll only have myself to blame. Ihihi..."

"Ah~ So you admit you _did_ try to find me."

"Guilty as charged."

"Hm." Ronove leant forwards, his blue eyes meeting Battler's. "Battler… I prefer it when you're optimistic. It truly is a remarkable trait humans have. They're able to be cheerful despite the awful circumstances that surround them. I would even say it's admirable. Could you try and smile once more? You did so nicely before."

"I'm not in a smiling mood right now- and, given I'm an 'endless sorcerer' or something, I'm not entirely 'human' either," said Battler. "Guess I have a right to be unhappy. Anyway, you shouldn't be ordering me around. Isn't that my job now, because you're _my _furniture?"

"Pu ku ku~ I suppose so. Perhaps I was being disrespectful. Would you like me to call you 'Lord Battler'?"

Battler paused for a few seconds before- finally- he smiled. This wasn't a self-deprecating smile, though; instead, it seemed more sincere.

Battler… really did look nice like that.

It was amusing watching expressions cycle across a human's face for a short period of time- but after a while, a smile… did seem to suit them best.

"Nah. You don't have to. I'm not that arrogant- and it'd probably get old after a while, anyway."

"At least you're smiling once more? I have to admit, it makes me feel somewhat relieved."

"Relieved?" Battler raised a brow. "Why would you be relieved for me?"

"Hn... I'm not entirely sure. Perhaps because I'm not inherently malicious... and I dislike seeing you upset," said Ronove. Pauses began to develop between his words as he searched for the right thing to say. "You've experienced so many painful situations already it would be... unfair of me to try and make it worse. And, as I said before... I've always admired your ability to remain cheerful, regardless of the situation. Such naïveté and innocence is truly refreshing."

Talking to humans (Battler, despite his 'sorcerer' status, was very much a human) was always tricky; far more difficult than interacting with fellow demons. Well... perhaps it was easier talking to demons because Ronove had known most of them for several thousand years. After such a large amount of time, it became relatively simple maintaining good relations with people.

This wasn't entirely true with Gaap, who enjoyed antagonizing people, but Ronove prided himself on the fact he was able to be slightly less irritating than Gaap.

"Huh... Is that so?" Battler grinned. "Ihihi... If I didn't know better, I'd say you actually _care_ about me."

"I have to care. I'm your furniture now, remember?"

"That's not what I meant and you know it," said Battler, rolling his eyes. "You're not trying to avoid a difficult conversation, are you?"

"I'll leave that up to your interpretation- although you probably shouldn't accuse me of 'avoiding' a difficult topic when you refuse to tell me why you're so upset."

Battler's breath caught in his throat. H-he didn't want to discuss this; he'd been trying to forget, a-and now-

"Battler."

Battler shuddered as he heard his name fall from Ronove's lips. Why did that damn butler have to choose now, of all times, to start acting serious? It was disconcerting... a-and it made Battler feel slightly light-headed; especially when Ronove looked at him like that, with actual concern in his eyes.

Didn't Ronove himself say 'don't trust me'?

B-but then, if that was the case... who could Battler trust?

Perhaps not even himself, if what he thought was correct- a-and it must have been, otherwise he wouldn't have been the game master, tasked with the almost impossible job of creating a new story.

He was right.

He knew the entire truth of Beato's game board- and it weighed him down, almost as if he were holding his own tombstone. He'd sought the truth for so long… but he didn't want the burden of carrying it anymore.

He'd come so far, and yet, maybe…

M-maybe he was weak after all…

Maybe he would have been better off not knowing the truth.

Maybe it would have been better if he let himself die- b-but what kind of selfish thinking was that?

"Battler... if you want me to be honest with you, then I'll be honest. Just this once."

"Ha. That makes a change."

"Indeed. But life needs a little variety; otherwise it would get boring. And I believe I, along with my fellow demons, know this better than anyone," said Ronove. He sighed. As he did so, his eyes did not leave Battler's; not even once. They were so blue- so completely fixed, and far too serious, that it was unsettling. "I do care for your wellbeing; perhaps more than I should... That's why I want to know."

Battler felt a slight tremor run up his spine. There was something so sincere about those words it pierced him deep down; even deeper than any of Beato's blades of red truth.

Ihihi... Beato would probably be annoyed to hear him think that.

Although... Not anymore.

Not given her current state. She wasn't really Beato anymore; she was an un-hatched 'chick' who tried to bake him _cookies. _Haha, was she trying to upstage Ronove or something? That wasn't her job.

It wasn't…

She was his enemy.

He _wanted_ her to be his enemy- because if she wasn't, who did he have left to blame…?

A cruel voice echoed in Battler's head; _that's what you always do when you're upset. You blame somebody else, because you're too childish to think maybe, this time, it was cruel fate and nothing else._

_You did it when Asumu died, didn't you?_

_Now, you're doing it again._

Battler linked his fingers together, eyes falling to the tabletop. He shuddered. The voice in his head was right, he knew it- b-but he didn't want to listen to reason or logic. He wanted to shut it up.

Believe in the witch…

It would have been better to believe in the witch.

Well… maybe witches and demons didn't matter all that much anymore.

"Maybe I'll feel more comfortable talking after I've had something to drink."

"Would you like some tea?"

"No, not tea. Something stronger, maybe?"

"You might be the territory lord, Battler, but I'm still not going to give you any alcohol. I have to be the responsible adult."

Battler opened his mouth, ready to retort (could you even apply the phrase 'adult' to somebody over one thousand years old?), but he was cut off by the sound of another voice.

"Well, you're _boring_, Ronove! Fufufu~ I, on the other hand, have absolutely _nooo_ problem drinking with little Battler here! He's sooo hot, it'd be a _sin_ not to! You're wasting a perfectly good chance to snatch him up for yourself!~ Kukukuku~"

In a swirl of red skirts and bouncing blonde curls, Gaap, the portal demon, appeared before Battler. She had emerged from the table in a haze of dark black, and was now sat, eye-to-eye, with Battler, a small smirk on her face.

"Fufufu~ Do you want to have some fun, do you, do you? It seems only right, given you just beat Bernkastel~ Not many people can say that. You should celebrate a little!"

"Yeah," said Battler, his face lighting up. "That's what I was thinking, too."

Ronove sighed, resting a hand on Gaap's shoulder.

"Gaap... Please don't try and corrupt Battler. Protecting him from Lady Bernkastel and Lady Lambdadelta is difficult enough; I hardly want his allies turning on him as well."

"Aww~ I'll bring him back in one piece," said Gaap, resting her head atop of Battler's. "Don't you trust meeee?"

Ronove smiled, shaking his head. "Do you want the honest answer or the polite one?"

"I'm gonna vote for neither! C'mon, Bahhhttler~" Gaap bumped her fist against Battler's head. "Let's go get drunk! It'll take your mind off things~"

"Ihihi... Sure. Why not? I guess I deserve it."

"That's the spirit!" Smirking, Gaap turned to Ronove. "Wanna join in?"

"...I think I'll pass."

Rolling her eyes, Gaap said, "Huh, fine. Suit yourself." She then stuck out her tongue. "Boooring. Maybe Lia'll join, though. She likes to act all prim and proper, but you should see her when she gets totally wasted. She has this habit of sitting in the bathtub singing Mozart's 'The Magic Flute'."

"Pu ku ku... Ah yes. I remember that. I shouldn't laugh, though..." An amused smile still remained on Ronove's face, however. "Miss Virgilia was quite embarrassed by the whole incident. She would probably appreciate it if you didn't mention it anymore."

"Yeah, she probably would. Doesn't mean I'll stop talking about it, though," said Gaap, smirking. "I hope she sings somethin' everybody can join in with this time, though. Maybe something by Handel. Like the Hallelujah chorus~ Everybody knows that one! Right." Gaap took hold of Battler's hand, pulling him up off his chair. "Let's go, let's go!~ Let's have some funnn! I used to go drinking with Riiche a few times, ya know."

"And cleaning up afterwards was never very much fun."

"Well, look at you, bein' all 'mature'," said Gaap. "But I don't care! You won't stop us having fun!"

And, with that statement, both Gaap and Battler vanished.

Ronove sighed.

Perhaps it would have been wiser to stop Battler going with Gaap- but he had been monopolizing a lot of Battler's time lately. Perhaps he was being selfish. Even so, Ronove couldn't help but worry about him.

What, exactly, was Battler so desperate to forget? Battler was usually so open; even about rather dark subject matters. Ronove was curious and, above all... he was concerned. At first, Ronove had attempted to help Battler as per Beatrice's requests. She didn't want her opponent to be broken so easily before her games had reached their conclusion, so Battler needed at least one person in the meta world he could rely on. That was the main reason (apart from his tea and cookies) Beatrice had called Ronove back in the first place. But...

It was something a little more than that now.

All Ronove knew was that Battler looked far, far more attractive when he smiled.

Well.

Maybe Battler would be more willing to talk if he was drunk.

...Not that Ronove was going to try and take advantage of the situation.

He was a gentleman.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Of course ;D  
>Next two chapters will be fun to write~~<br>Then this fic will probably very nearly be over... Which is kind of sad XD

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	8. Fourth kiss

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Fourth kiss

* * *

><p>"Do you really think this is a wise idea, allowing those two to spend so much time together?" said Virgilia, tugging at the brim of her hat.<p>

She'd been doing it for the past five minutes.

Virgilia only adjusted her hat with such regularity when she was nervous and needed to occupy her hands. It was a trait of hers' Ronove was well aware of.

"No. I don't think it's a wise idea," said Ronove, shaking his head. "However… young people must learn from their mistakes. I can hardly stop Battler from doing what he wants when he is the territory lord."

Virgilia sighed. "I suppose that's true. It's just…"

"Hm?"

"I don't want Gaap to _break him_. Beato will be very upset if that happens!"

"Yes… I am slightly concerned about that, too."

Virgilia's face turned pale. "I-I thought you were meant to comfort me! This… really hasn't helped at all…"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, somewhere else in the endless expanse of white (honestly- just how big was the meta world anyway?), the sounds of voices could be hear fluttering through the air like butterflies.<p>

(In the meta world it was _always _butterflies.)

That was a very lovely, poetic description; until one realized the owners of those two voices were both completely drunk. The white table covered in empty bottles of alcohol spoke volumes; far more than their slurred voices could.

"Hey, hey~ Lemme tell you a secret!"

"Sure~ Who's it about?"

"Mm... You. And Ronove, too!"

"Seriously?"

"Yep! It's a really, reeeaalllyyyy important secret, though, so you can't-" _hic _"-tell anyone, ohhkayyy?"

"Ah, yeah, sure... People don't really tell me that much 'round here."

"Huh. That's 'cause they're mean. But your cool and hot big sister Gaap is here!"

"Yeah, it would've been nice to have a sexy big sis like you. I'd be just like one of them lucky bastards from a harem manga, ihihi. It'd be a dream come true! 'Specially if you came with those big-boobed sisters, too...! Ahh, if they all started calling me 'brother' I'd die! I'd die and go to heaven!"

"Y-yeah, fufufuUu-" _hic_. "An incest option is always, um... really important nowadays, huhhh? 'Specially in dating sims... H-hey~" Giggle, giggle. "But you already have a younger sishh, huh?"

Battler's eyes narrowed at this dangerous comment. Talking about the 'daring' moves made in the gaming industry to further accommodate perverts like him (and Gaap, apparently) was all fine if it was _hypothetical_, but dragging his real little sister into this sordid discussion seemed... somehow _dirty_.

This crossed a line, Battler was sure of it, but he was too drunk to fully tell where the line began. Maybe he'd already crossed the borders of 'social etiquette' with his light-hearted talk of sexy big sisters, but it really wasn't his fault! Gaap had brought it up first!

It was all Gaap's fault, obviously.

Gaap was still grinning devilishly (huh. What an apt description). Her blonde curls were a little messier than usual, her face flushed. Her hat was in danger of falling off her head and onto the bed of empty bottles strewn across the table. She was inebriated around the edges but she wasn't so drunk she didn't understand what she was talking about.

Gaap was a very intelligent person.

Battler frowned.

Demons had no concept of 'human relations'.

Or 'tact'.

Or 'decency'.

Or 'fashion sense', if Gaap's completely pointless non-dress and Ronove's monocle were anything to go by. (Seriously, who the fuck wore a monocle? Glasses worked better as fetish fuel- Shannon would know, and Battler himself kind of had a thing for cute glasses girls- and they were easier to wear!)

"H-hey," said Battler, trying to glare at Gaap, "don' bring my real little sister into this deprived conversation. It feels really dirty."

"Aww~ Does somebody have a big brother complex?"

"I-I love my little sister and I'm proud of it!" said- nay, _declared_- Battler. "S-she's been through a lot... A-all for me... A-and I don't deserve it. I-I didn't even recognize her when she was stood _right in front of me. _What kind of brother does that make me?"

"A shitty one?" Gaap suggested innocently, all wide eyes and pretty curls.

Battler didn't even have the heart do disagree with her. That blunt statement pretty much summed up all his thoughts.

"Y-yeah, that's right... Ihihi..." Battler laughed, resting his head against his hand. "A terrible brother. I'm useless... seriously useless... M-my sister was right there, a-and I didn't notice! D-did you know, when I first saw her, I... I even felt _resentful _towards her; angry 'cause she was an outsider butting into my game with Beato... A-and I... I... _Fuck._ When I realized she was my little sis, Ange, grown up... I-I always wanted to see her grow up... B-but when I realized, it was too late! I'm such an idiot!"

_Thunk!_

"O-ow..."

Battler cringed, nursing his hand. He'd just hit the table with his fist in anger- but the table was far stronger than his pitiful collection of brittle human bones, and it didn't take too kindly to being punched. Neither did the various empty bottles of alcohol. Battler didn't even _know _what sort of alcohol it was- but at least it wasn't that awful green absinthe Kinzo liked.

That would have killed him far quicker than Beatrice ever could.

With a clatter and a clank, the bottles jumped slightly at the impact of fist meeting table. One of them rolled off the table and-

_Crash_

A sharp mass of criss-crossing cracks forming against the glass.

They looked kind of like the delicate veins or arteries on a person's wrist; so small and delicate and easy to destroy.

Easy to tear apart.

Humans were easy to kill.

Ange had died in a shower of blood, flesh falling from her skin and oozing against the floor-

_Stop it, stop it!_

But it was too late.

He couldn't save Ange.

Some brother he was.

"_I'll come back to you on a white horse, I promise!"_

..Some friend, too.

Memories bit into Battler's skull, each one every bit as painful as a shard of glass- digging, always digging, with pointed teeth that made him gasp in pain. His vision was blurring; real life (was the meta world real at all?) splintering away before his eyes as the pain coursed through his brain. By this point Battler didn't know if the pain was real, either. Was it a headache brought about by too much alcohol, or was the pain all in his mind, brought about by horrible memories and even heavier guilt?

The warm, pleasant sensation Battler had experienced when he first began drinking with Gaap had disappeared, leaving him drained and empty.

I-it hurt...

Even if this pain was all inside his head, not truly 'real', it still... was almost unbearable... H-his head was simply too small to withstand the agony of so many different people. It was unfair that he was expected to shoulder this burden...

_It's also unfair that you couldn't solve the mystery in time and save your family._

_It's unfair that you didn't recognize Ange until she killed herself to save you._

_It's unfair that you broke your promise and then forgot all about it._

_It's unfair that you broke her heart._

_It's... all your fault._

_All of it._

_So it's perfectly 'fair'._

_You did something wrong and you're being punished. Isn't that what you wanted to do to Beato? Or did you decide to change your mind now the same logic is being applied to _you?

_That's sickening._

The ache in Battler's head worsened; a pain that seemed to click-clack across the inside of his skull and pull on wires in his brain- _which memory hurts the most? Let's show that to you next~ Fufufu~ _For some reason, that voice sounded a lot like Beatrice's, but it was mixed up, distorted.

Who was that person?

He knew.

He remembered.

He-

.

.

Darkness.

He might have hit his head, but he wasn't sure. It hurt so much already it was difficult to tell.

* * *

><p>"I tried to dissuade you from doing something so foolish, but I suppose my words fell on deaf ears. I'm used to obstinate children ignoring me, though~"<p>

Battler blinked, his vision slowly clearing- head clearing, too. It had been so noisy, so crowded; so loud inside his own skull it felt like it would shatter- but now... N-now, in almost a split second, he... didn't feel so bad anymore.

"You passed out, you know. Although it was only for half an hour Miss Virgilia was very worried. I suppose she's giving Gaap a long talk about 'responsibility' right now. Those two get along so well, even after all this time… I believe arguing makes them happy, although they deny it. Pu ku ku…"

There was warmth. Another person was supporting Battler, their arms keeping him steady. If that nice, warm mass of comforting solid wasn't there Battler was sure he would've fallen over.

"Well... I suppose making mistakes is a part of life. Perhaps this turn of events is, in fact, rather fortunate. You won't do something like this again, hm?"

"No," said Battler, light humor creeping into his voice despite how disoriented he felt. "I don't suppose I will either."

"Trying to keep up with Miss Gaap in a drinking game was, I fear, not the smartest move. You have to remember that she_is_ over one thousand years old; not somebody to be taken lightly.

"Ihihi... Y-yeah, I guess. She doesn't look one thousand, though. It's not fai... ah..."

Battler winced as a fresh wave of nausea washed over him. He had to swallow his words- tasting bile at the back of his throat- whilst he tried to regain his composure. All the while, Battler felt fingers gently threading through his hair. The light touch was a comfort; something soft Battler could lean against whilst he fought against his mounting headache.

"Are you alright?" The question was just as gentle, if not more, than the light touches that ghosted against Battler's skin.

Battler smirked. "Ihihi... Never better."

"...Well. Ask a stupid question-"

"-get a stupider answer."

"Indeed. Then again, it's customary for humans to ask one another unnecessary questions when somebody's hurt. I'm merely following tradition. If you're able to make sarcastic comments, I'm sure you'll be fine~"

"Haha..." Battler laughed softly. "And yet, even though you're 'sure', you're still concerned."

"Well, naturally."

"Ihihi... Thanks, Ronove."

"You flatter me~ I don't need the pleasantries, though I am thankful for them."

"Y-yeah, that might be true... There's not... not enough time..."

"This sounds rather ominous. Not enough time for what?"

"N-ngh…"

"Pray tell, is the end of the world dawning upon us?"

"Ah… N-no, you idiot. I…I think I'm going to be sick..."

Luckily, Ronove had expected this would happen. Vomiting was a typical symptom most people who'd consumed their body weight in Ayakiku sake (or any kind of alcoholic drink, really) experienced.

Not even Gaap was immune to horrible hangovers after her binges, and the total amount of time Gaap had dedicated to drinking in her life must have easily surpassed Battler's eighteen years.

Leaning forwards, shoulders shaking heavily whilst his body was wracked with pitiful gasps, Battler vomited into the bucket Ronove had oh-so-helpfully created for him in a haze of golden butterflies. At that point in time, Battler didn't give a damn whether magic was real or not; he was just really, really grateful he'd managed to save face (somewhat) by having that bucket.

The back of his throat burned. His eyes stung, watering. All the while, that awful headache was still thumping inside his skull like a second heartbeat.

When Battler had finished vomiting up the contents of his stomach into that bucket he felt weak; impossibly weak. Lethargic, too. His limbs moved as though they were weighted down with rocks, and it was difficult to move them of his own volition. Even so, he couldn't stop shuddering. He wasn't cold- he felt impossibly hot; but still, helpless tremors racked his body.

His mouth tasted of _death_. Rancid. He didn't want to keep his tongue inside his mouth anymore.

"Would you like something to drink?" asked Ronove.

The mere thought of drink only made Battler groan. The taste in his mouth was horrid- but the mere thought of putting anything back into his stomach only made him feel sicker.

It might have been best to wait.

Weakly, Battler collapsed against Ronove's chest. Pride didn't really matter now. He must have lost that whilst he'd been sick.

Battler noted he was sat on his own bed in the room Beato had given to him the moment he entered the meta world. It was still just as white as always; painfully so now, given his pounding headache. The bucket had vanished, too- which was a probably a good thing. The smell of vomit wasn't all that appealing, and it'd just make Battler's stomach heave more. It was a good thing it was now completely empty.

Battler didn't care about his surroundings at all. The only thing that mattered was the warmth he was pressed against. It was a contradiction, but somehow Ronove- a demon- managed to make Battler feel at ease.

Battler didn't want to move. He just... wanted to stay there.

Stay there and sleep.

"Urgh... N-never again... Not for as long as I live..."

"A very wise choice."

"Ihihi... Yeah. And Beato said I was stupid..."

"Far be it from me to judge your actions, but drinking such a large volume of alcohol in such a short space of time was a rather ridiculous thing to do. I'm sure we can both agree it wasn't your best idea to date."

"Prolly... the worst, huh?"

"Well, I don't know," said Ronove, his voice teasing. "If I were cruel enough to compile a list of your worst ideas it would be fairly long... The phrase 'small bombs' springs to mind, pu ku ku~"

Battler flushed slightly at this comment. He was shocked he still had the energy for embarrassment, given how exhausted he felt, but- surprise, surprise- it was still possible.

_Gah._

Battler hated his hair sometimes. Not the style, which _wasn't _stupid no matter what future-Ange had said (she grew up into quite the bitter girl, huh?), but the color. Every time he blushed his whole head turned bright red, like a candle.

"Hey, don't tease me," Battler muttered, prodding Ronove in the stomach. "My deductive abilities are _amazing_; Beato just... backed me into a corner... B-but..." _Yawn. _"I was just being creative."

"Yes, of course. I do admire your creativity~"

"D-don't say it like it's a bad thing."

"I wasn't aware I was doing that.

"Oh, you _are_, you totally are. Otherwise you wouldn't be laughing."

"Perhaps you're paranoid?"

"No, you just take great delight in torment... U-urgh..." Battler winced, shuddering, as more nausea hit him. At least there was nothing left to regurgitate this time.

Battler hoped Ronove wouldn't bring this up again. It wouldn't do much for his credibility before Bernkastel and Erika...

"Don't worry. Furniture protect their masters' secrets." Ronove smiled, his fingers still gently threading through Battler's hair in that comforting way that was just so... s-so _nice_ Battler felt like he could melt. Melt like an ice cube in the sunlight.

Drip, drip.

"And besides, I wouldn't tell anybody of this even if I wasn't your furniture. It is unbecoming of a demon such as myself to gossip."

"Hm... I-I guess you really are my furniture now, huh?" said Battler. "Does that mean... you're only here 'cause you _have _to?"

"No. I'm here because a certain somebody believed they could handle more alcohol than they could... and, for whatever reason, I feel too... attached to that mysterious somebody to simply let them suffer for their stupidity."

"A-attached?" Battler echoed. Unbidden, a small smile spread across his face. "T-that's... that's a nice way of putting it. I-I used to try and spout lines like that in English to girls I liked when I was a kid... Ihihi... It didn't go too well."

"Naturally. You lack the sophisticated kind of charm required to pull it off~"

"Ihihi... Whatever. At least I'm somewhat attractive."

"With a very 'interesting' hairstyle, no less."

Battler glowered at Ronove at this. "G-geez, just 'cause my little sis is awesome you guys don't alll need to copy her. Lay off my hair. S'not _that_ weird anyway."

"Of course. My apologizes~" said Ronove. He sounded (as always) not very apologetic at all. "The fact still remains that you're not entirely sober and you were sick a few moments ago. That might put a few dents in your otherwise flawless charm~"

"Ahaha… Shut up. Even sick, I'm wayyy more handsome than you."

"Of course. I wouldn't like to dampen your spirits~"

There was a small silence; a lull in the conversation.

"You know..." Battler frowned, sobering up slightly as his drunken haze dissipated. "I think about Ange a lot. I always did. I really, really love her... a-and... a-and I didn't even recognize her..."

"Well, none of us are perfect."

"I-I know, but..."

"It wasn't your fault," said Ronove. His voice was firmer than usual; far more serious- and it made Battler, despite his sleepy stupor, blink up at Ronove in surprise. Maybe... he was right.

Ange didn't dissolve into a pile of meat just so he could blame himself for her death. Ange didn't return to her brother's side despite the dangers surrounding her so Battler could feel bad.

Ange returned so she could defeat the illusion of the witch and learn the truth.

Now, Battler had the truth that Ange sought- or at least, part of it...

And he didn't know what to do with it.

He didn't want to accept it…

Because he was weak.

He'd come this far, and he was_ still_ weak.

"Ange isn't... the only reason, you know," said Battler. "There's also... b-but... but..." His breath caught in his throat. "D-damnit..."

"You can talk about it later," said Ronove, loosening his grip around Battler's middle and getting to his feet. "For now, perhaps you should get some peace and-"

"N-no, wait!"

In a split second Battler reached forwards, moving quickly- fuelled with a panic he couldn't even begin to understand.

…He didn't really want to understand it, either.

In that instant, all of Battler's common sense flew right out of the metaphorical window. There was nothing more important to Battler than making Ronove stay. He absolutely _couldn't_ leave; Battler wouldn't let him! The thought of him leaving…

I-it was almost _painful._

Battler's fingers grabbed Ronove's arm, grip tightening with a strength enhanced by fear. He was breathing heavily, his messy bangs hanging in front of his eyes, obscuring his vision, as he looked up at Ronove. He hated to think he was 'desperate', but he knew he looked like it… And he felt like it, too.

His heart was beating a little too fast.

H-his reaction wasn't normal at all. The look on Ronove's face proved that much.

D-damn it…

"Battler...?"

Battler winced. H-he couldn't believe he was going to say this- but he wasn't going to let his pride stop him, damn it! He... H-he'd been by himself for most of Beato's game; backed into a corner by enemies and allies he thought he could trust, only for them to stab him in the back. Battler had learnt the hard way by the end of the third game he had to do this by himself.

He really was alone…

But that wasn't strictly true, was it?

Ronove had been there.

Ronove had always been there.

Even when Battler didn't want his company- which was most of the time, seriously- that damn annoying demon butler had still been by his side. Ronove might have said 'don't trust me', and he might have teased Battler at every opportunity, and he might have held no regards for personal space, but despite all that…

Despite it all, Ronove had said he cared.

He told Battler he cared about him.

And maybe he really did.

Otherwise… why did Battler end up Ronove all the time? Why would Ronove bother spending time with him if it was an elaborate ruse devised by Beatrice now 'Beatrice' was little more than herself in appearance only?

She wasn't the Golden Witch anymore. She didn't deserve that title. Instead, she was a sweet young girl no more capable of hurting Battler than a…

Well.

Than a butterfly.

This couldn't be a plot. B-battler refused to let this be a plot! He needed one ally, didn't he? Even Holmes had Watson.

Battler's friends and family were trapped on the game board, unable to communicate with him; sealed off in a different world Battler could never reach.

Ange was dead.

Beatrice was gone.

And Battler didn't want to be alone anymore. H-he didn't want...

B-but it wasn't even a matter of what he 'wanted' anymore.

He simply couldn't.

He _couldn't._

The thought of being alone, truly alone, with a throbbing headache surrounded by a sea of white (the interior designer for the meta world was a lazy, lazy person) was enough to make Battler's heart beat faster and faster from nerves, until it almost felt like it would explode from his chest. Memories ran through his head; not just of Ange and Beatrice, but that time six years ago…

That painful point in his life just after his mother died.

Battler had been alone then, too, though that was mostly his own fault. He'd excluded himself from Rudolf and his new wife, Kyrie, because he couldn't trust them. How could he love and respect a man who married a new woman so quickly just after his old wife died? Battler loved his mom… and, to twelve-year-old Battler, it felt like Rudolf had been trying to pretend she didn't exist.

At that point in time Battler felt he couldn't trust anybody except his grandparents- snd then_ they_ died, too.

Battler felt like that lost child from six years ago all over again; the child who refused to go to his mother's funeral because he was too afraid of saying goodbye.

It was stupid, completely ridiculous. H-he'd moved on from that. He wasn't twelve anymore; he was stronger now-

So why did he feel so lost and confused?

Why… was he crying?

"D-don't go!" Battler's grip on Ronove's arm tightened; fingers digging into his skin as tightly as he could manage. In his panic, Battler's too-tight grip managed to leave a faint imprint of his hand behind on Ronove's flesh. "D-don't. I-I don't... If you try to leave me like this I won't forgive you, even if you _are_ my 'furniture', y-you bastard! Y-you don't just leave somebody by themselves when they've got a headache and they feel sick, r-right? If you were gonna leave to begin with you never should've comforted me in the first place! Stay here... with me..."

Battler stared up at Ronove helplessly, feeling just like a stupid child again. He might have been the game master, in control of the pieces of the board, but what use was that when he could hardly understand his own feelings?

Battler's voice dropped to a whisper, "Don't leave. That's an order."

There was a long pause, the silence only broken by Battler's off sniffs and mutters of 'd-damn it…' as he angrily wiped away his tears with his spare hand. T-this was happening way too much- and why wasn't Ronove saying anything?

Was he trying to tease him?

Why-

"Battler."

Battler's breath caught in his throat.

"W-what?"

Another pause. Then, Ronove smiled.

"Battler… If you want me to stay then I will. I can't refuse an order like that. So... although I'm glad you care for my company so much, you really needn't hold onto my arm like that."

"H-huh?"

"You're hurting me."

"O-oh..." Battler hadn't realized just how tight his grip was. Blushing, he released Ronove's arm. "Sorry... I-I just... Just disregard that. A moment of madness. You guys are getting to me, ihihi..."

But Battler's laugh was weak, and Ronove was able to see through it easily.

The moment Ronove sat back down beside Battler, Battler felt relief rush through him. He couldn't deny it. He didn't have the energy to deny it.

It wasn't like he'd gain anything from rejecting this brief moment of happiness. Maybe he'd spent so long trying to deny witches he wanted to deny everything else as well. The truth… The past… And his own feelings, too.

But he wasn't going to do that anymore.

"Y-you know," said Battler, looking Ronove in the eye, "Gaap... a while back... said she was going to tell me a secret."

Ronove raised a brow. "A secret?"

"Mm. Something about you and me..."

Battler paused, looking at Ronove's face- but Beato's butler (well, technically his, now) remained impassive. That was only to be expected.

"Well, it doesn't matter what the secret is," said Battler, cupping Ronove's face with his fingers. Battler's movements were a little awkward. He didn't really know what to do, or why he was doing it- but... he'd already promised he wouldn't shy away from these feelings anymore. How could he face the truth of Rokkenjima if he couldn't even face this? "'Cause... I want to find out for myself."

Ronove laughed. The sound made Battler tremble, his fingertips shaking.

"Pu ku ku… A truly noble goal. A real detective wouldn't be content to sit and let the answers be presented to them, of course."

"Mm… My interrogation methods might be a little unorthodox, though… If that's okay?"

"You're a very unorthodox human~ I have no problem with it… if it's interesting…"

"I thought you'd say that…"

"Ah. You know me too well."

"Sadly so, I'm afraid."

Throughout the exchange Battler, his heart still thumping with a tangled knot of nerves, slowly dipped his face, until his lips were inches away from Ronove's. His intentions must have been fairly obvious, but Ronove didn't move. If anything, he lent forwards slightly, his eyelids falling shut.

Battler frowned, drawing away, questions falling from his mouth, "You're not doing this because you have to, are you?"

Ronove smiled. "Maybe you should try and find out~ What was this about discovering the answer for yourself?"

"Ahaha… Yeah, right. Like I need a damn demon like you to tell me that."

And then Battler, still a little hesitant despite his bravado, tilted Ronove's head upwards, (fingers under his chin lightly awkwardly, noses bumping and breath catching in his throat) and pressed his mouth against Ronove's in a kiss.

Battler didn't know why he did it- b-but, no... That was a lie. He knew precisely why.

He was still trying to run away...

To forget.

But he couldn't any longer. That was a cowardly option- and Battler wasn't a coward. He had to face this truth without flinching so he could be worthy of being called 'game master', and Ange's brother.

Drawing back from the kiss- his face flushed, heart pounding his chest- Battler bumped his forehead against Ronove's, grinning despite the nauseous feeling that had overtaken him.

"Ihihi... You know, you just kissed somebody who was sick a few moments before."

"I'm aware of that. It didn't work in your favour. But… I don't mind."

"Mm? Why's that?"

"Because you're _you,_ of course... Pu ku ku... And I would forgive you for a lot of things. I really do value your company. You're intriguing… And I must admit, I was a little jealous Milady held your attentions so entirely." Ronove laughed softly. "Mm... I assume _that _was what Miss Gaap was going to tell you. So... I decided to tell you myself."

"...Good. Then I guess… A-ah…" Yawning, Battler fell against Ronove's chest, eyelids fluttering shut. "I-I guess… I'll tell you my secret… tomorrow. 'Cause you care so much an' all. It's nice of you to bother, ihihi…"

Battler wasn't entirely sure when he fell asleep.

He didn't dream of anything at all.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **So fluffy... Really, really fluffy XD  
>I hope their interactions are believableee : Mostly I'm worried about Battler being too much of a woobie, but he does seem to break down and cry a lot in the actual vns, and he's been thru so much... I'm still trying to get some of his awesome attitude and brightbright optimism to counteract the depresshun. But maybe he's slightly OOC ._. Gahh.<br>Making a srsly believable srsly ~romantic~ story with these two characters is hard, damn it XD  
>Then again, in most of the fanart I see for this pair seems OOC to me as well...<p>

The next chapter should, hopefully, resolve some of this.  
>Besides, it's the one chapter I really really wanna write :3<p>

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	9. Stalling for time

**A Different Point of View  
><strong>Stalling for time

* * *

><p>Battler sighed in relief as he sipped the cup of tea Ronove had offered him. He couldn't tell what type of it was, exactly, but he was still enjoying it. That might have been because he'd only just woken up and everything was pretty blurry around the edges... but really, wasn't all tea pretty much the same?<p>

Ihihi. Gohda probably would've had a heart attack if he heard that. Which would be a really interesting method of murder, actually, if it wasn't so bizarre.

...Not that the murders in Beato's game had been 'normal'.

Battler sighed, taking another sip of the tea. It was a little too hot, and left his mouth feeling strangely raw, but Battler didn't mind; anything to wash the awful taste inside his mouth away.

Although he was attempting to be calm- sipping his tea as if he didn't have a care in the world- Battler somehow got the feeling he'd done something incredibly stupid last night. Something so stupid that he looked like a complete fool pretending nothing had happened-

But Battler wasn't sure he wanted to remember.

Selective memory loss was quite useful.

The foul taste that had filled his mouth when he first awoke was proof enough something was amiss- but that hadn't been the only piece of evidence which led Battler to deduce something wasn't right.

The taste in his mouth had only been the tip of the iceberg.

A very large iceberg.

Forget Gohda having a heart attack over Battler's pitiful ignorance about tea; Battler _himself_ had nearly had a heart attack that morning. Oh so unsuspectingly he'd opened his eyes, blinking white spots away from the corners of his vision and trying to quell his headache. White was not a good color to wake up to after you'd been drinking last night...

But Battler had suspected white would be the only thing he woke up to.

Not Ronove.

He certainly hadn't expected to find himself curled up in bed, arms around Ronove's middle, head resting on his chest.

Battler's thoughts on the matter could easily be summarised into one word.

_Fuck._

Needless to say, that was one of the more interesting mornings Battler had ever experienced in his short little life. It was second only, perhaps, to that time he'd fell asleep on the beach of Rokkenjima when he was eight and Jessica had buried him up to his neck in sand. And at least that incident hadn't made Battler question his sexuality- or, more importantly, his sanity, which had been slipping away with every passing day.

It was only after Battler had shouted in alarm and pushed Ronove away from him- who had already been awake at this point, but hadn't wanted to move in case he upset Battler- that the memories from last night began to flood back to Battler. He'd been with Gaap... and then... most of it was a blur he didn't want to remember, but Battler got the feeling he'd said some pretty embarrassing stuff to Ronove- and then, when Ronove tried to leave, Battler had grabbed hold of his arm and told (no,_ ordered_) him not to go.

Ahh... that was pretty awful. What was he, five years old? Battler wasn't a little kid who was afraid of sleeping in the dark by himself- he was an adult who should have been able to handle his hangover by himself.

Obviously not.

If that was the case, he wouldn't have fallen asleep cuddled up to Ronove.

Arrghhh.

Why did his head have to make that sound worse than it actually was?

Battler hadn't done anything, right?

At least… he didn't think he'd done anything…

He did stupid things all the time, but he'd never be _that _stupid to do something serious-

But thinking about it gave Battler a headache.

At least Ronove hadn't been too terrible about the whole ordeal. He had teased Battler about it a little but, surprisingly enough, hadn't been completely insufferable. Maybe just a little…

Maybe… not even that much.

Ronove had smiled and told Battler of some of the more bizarre things that had happened to Gaap whilst she was drunk (trying to pierce her own ear with a knitting needle came to mind), and then he'd made Battler drink that tea. Battler hadn't really wanted it at first.

"I feel sick," Battler had complained, trying to push the cup of tea away that Ronove offered him. "I don't want it."

"That's because you _were_ sick last night and you didn't drink anything to get rid of the taste," said Ronove, his voice soft and soothing. "Even if you feel ill, you should try and drink something."

"You sound like…"

Battler paused. He'd been about to say 'my mother', but Kyrie had never been that concerned about his health. Battler didn't care, given Ange- who was a lot younger than him- really needed the attention, and he wasn't her real son anyway, but…

Battler sighed.

"Fine, whatever. Just 'cause you care about me sooo much," said Battler, grudgingly accepting the tea- and, in extension, Ronove's kindness. "I swear, if I didn't drink it you'd die of worry."

"That's right~ Sometimes I forget how perceptive you are~"

"…Shut up."

Battler hadn't been in the mood for light conversation.

The tea, however, was really good; nice enough to relax Battler's frayed nerves and pounding headache.

There were worse ways to spend a morning, Battler supposed.

Even though Battler was kind-of sort-of quite-a-lot horrified at the prospect of what he might have done last night, Ronove wasn't really bad company...

Not at all.

At least he had an indoor voice, unlike Beato, who just shouted everything. That was helpful. If Beato had tried to play nurse- a hilarious idea in itself- then she would've made Battler feel even sicker, even if she did have a nice body… especially in a nurses' dress, with a cute hat? Ihihi…

But appearances meant little if they didn't come with a nice personality, too- something Beatrice was sadly lacking.

Her new 'chick' form might have been an improvement- if it wasn't so jarring seeing somebody who looked exactly like Beatrice smiling sweetly and making Battler cookies.

Ronove's tea was nice, too. And, strangely enough, he was pretty good at being comforting... And... Battler liked… spending time with him?

Gah.

Battler winced, willing his brain to shut up.

Talking.

He'd trying talking instead. He would drown the sound of his head out with his own voice.

That sounded good.

And not insane at all.

The meta world hadn't broken him yet- of course not!

"Ah... Thanks, Ronove," said Battler gratefully, sipping the cup of tea that the demon butler had offered him. "You're a life saver."

Ronove laughed. "Pu ku ku~ I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not. Saving lives is not, generally, what one would expect a demon to do... That is, if we were to use the human definition of a 'demon'."

Was that… an attempt to start a new conversation? Was Ronove trying to distract Battler from his jumbled thoughts, just for a second, with something irrelevant?

If that was the case…

Then Battler was grateful.

Embarrassingly grateful.

Although Battler couldn't remember all that much from yesterday, he did remember he'd told Ronove he would talk about his feelings… He'd been pretty despondant after he'd learnt the 'truth'- and, ihihi, anybody would have a right to be a little upset after they'd been skewered by Dlanor A. Knox- but that wasn't it.

That wasn't why Battler felt so… horrible.

Hardly even human.

Battler didn't know how to put those feelings into words.

Ronove had asked what was wrong before, so must have been curious- maybe even worried. And yet, despite that, Ronove was trying to change the subject to himself, rather than focusing on Battler… just so Battler could organize his thoughts?

Was that it?

That was the same kind of thing George did when Natsuhi or Eva scolded Shannon, according to Jessica; that was how she'd first realized how much George cared for her.

Battler couldn't help but smirk at that thought.

That was that, and this was this. George and Shannon's relationship had nothing to do with this conversation.

Even though they weren't the same at all, Battler… smiled.

"Yeah, I'm not clear on this," said Battler, seizing the new subject matter after a moments' pause. "What do demons actually _do, _anyway? Is it all sitting down and drinking tea, with the occasional round of tormenting humans fit in there somewhere for fun? I'm kind of curious. In-between having tea parties and baking cookies, your timetable must be pretty full already!"

Ronove, his face impassive as always, merely smiled. "I didn't know you cared about us enough to ask such a question?"

"I didn't. I didn't believe in you at all. But now we're sat here, and I've been drinking the tea you pulled out of thin air- which is pretty good, by the way- it'd be rude to keep insisting you don't exist… And it wouldn't look good for my sanity, either."

"Well, that has always been in question~"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Very droll. I just…" Battler frowned, running a hand through his hair. It wasn't like it could get any messier- and didn't girls like that windswept, never-seen-a-brush-before look? "I don't really know what to think about this whole mess anymore…"

"If you keep worrying in that manner you'll start to lose your hair~ Cheer up?"

Battler stuck out his tongue in response.

"Ah~ That childish insolence is more like it. You remind me of Milady sometimes~"

"Nah. I'm missing a few crucial assets."

"Well, that is true… But breasts are rather overrated anyway~"

Battler raised a brow at this comment- before he started sniggering. "Ha~ I always knew you didn't like girls~~"

"I do like girls. Depending on whom they are. They can be quite pleasant company at times."

"Ah, you know what I meant," said Battler, giving Ronove a light shove in the shoulder. "I can't really believe you said that… and yet, at the same time, I totally, totally can… Ihihi."

Ronove grinned. "I know. It's quite the puzzle, isn't it?"

"Even more so than this stupid game."

The mention of the 'game'- the confusion of sides to take, and the worry this was all some mental delusion and he was actually in a hospital bed with a tumor- was enough to make Battler hang his head once more.

Battler looked pensive for a few moments; sitting, cross-legged, on his bed, whilst he stared at the cup of tea in his hands. It was almost if he were looking for the meaning of life buried at the bottom of the cup- but when no answers were forthcoming (which he should have expected, really), he scowled.

Stupid useless cup of tea.

_Gulp._

There!

Slamming the now-empty teacup down on the bed with a sense of determination (as there was no saucer it didn't give a satisfactory 'chnk' sound), Battler smirked.

That'd show that stupid cup of tea for being so unhelpful.

Nobody fucked around with Ushiromiya Battler.

…Even if Battler's mouth did feel a little burnt now. But Battler still had the last laugh.

Battler glared at the useless cup. It exploded into golden butterflies as he did so- which was somewhat cathartic.

Stupid cup had it coming.

"So," said Battler, turning back to Ronove once he'd finished his 'epic duel' with the teacup, "since I own my own demons now- being the game master and all, with my awesome yet impractical cape that does approximately nothing- I want to know how to care and feed for them. Is having a demon like having a pet cat?"

"I wasn't aware I was particularly feline, unless this is your impression of me?"

"Everything looks better with cat ears," said Battler absently. "Apart from maybe Bernkastel."

"Well, the ears would be unnecessary for her. She already has the tail. And the bad temper…"

"Ihihi~ And that thing cats do, where they lick themselves in inappropriate places?"

"I believe that is completely up to Lady Bernkastel's free will, and it would be uncouth to pry into such a matter~ Get your mind from the gutter, Battler~"

"Yeah, says _you_," said Battler sourly. "Maybe the cat thing was a bad example…"

"I believe you got sidetracked when your brain was suddenly besieged with rather inappropriate thoughts, pu ku ku~"

"Hey, shut up, Mr. 'Breasts-are-overrated'," said Battler. "I still want to ask my original question. What's the point in you demon guys anyway? Weren't you going to tell me all about your long and interesting history?~"

Ronove smiled and said, "Mm... I could. That is, if you want a lecture so early in the morning."

Battler didn't really care. Anything to get his mind off all that guilt…

Guilt wasn't a very nice thing.

Ronove was nicer~

Ahh… that was kind of- no, not kind of, **really**- weird, though…

"Well," Ronove began, once Battler nodded his head, "the role of a demon depends on their masters' desires."

Battler smirked. "Whoa. That sounds kind of kinky... Ihihi~"

It happened in a matter of seconds.

Ronove's smile- which had, previously, been so pleasant- became something rather more feral, almost predatory.

"H-hey, wha-?"

But Battler's question died in his throat as he took in the sudden proximity of Ronove, Their faces were inches apart- and Ronove even held Battler's hands in his own.

…The look on Ronove's face suggested he wanted to eat Battler up.

Battler shuddered. He felt a little bit like Red Riding Hood; all pure and innocent- and he had a dead grandparent, to boot.

"W-what are you doing…?"

"Just being curious~" said Ronove, voice teasing. "You said something about demons servicing desires as being…" Ronove's voice dropped in tone, becoming lower, softer. "I wouldn't normally say this, but I'm borrowing your exact words~ You said it was 'kinky', hmm?~ If you think that… thennnn… it could be, if you wanted it to~ Depending on what you want from me. I have no problems with it. Pu ku ku~"

Battler's face flushed red; the same color as his hair. Wincing, Battler grabbed hold of Ronove's shoulders and pushed him away.

So flustered his ears were now turning red, Battler spluttered like a fish out of water (if said fish had just been hit on and it could talk), "N-no way! I was just saying..."

"I know what you were saying, don't worry. I'm just teasing you," said Ronove, his smirk replaced with his usual smile once more.

That was a relief.

Battler found found himself relaxing, just a little- though his heartbeat was still erratic.

"Maybe you should be more careful choosing your words from now on, though, Battler. I might start to believe you're flirting with me~ A slight error in communication can be quite dangerous, you know?"

"Yeah... And don't I know it." A sigh.

Well. At least that would teach Battler not to be a pervert- because Ronove, despite his airs and graces, seemed to be an even bigger pervert than him. Or he was just kind of a dick who liked messing around with Battler's head.

Maybe Battler would have to ask Gaap and Virgilia about the whole 'pervert' thing. It wouldn't hurt to get a few more opinions. But, given Ronove's apparent distaste for boobs, Battler doubted he'd flirt so shamelessly with Gaap or Virgilia.

…Ihihi.

Battler was just 'lucky', then.

"Anyway, to answer your earlier question," Ronove continued, as though there had never been a break in the conversation at all, "demons mainly exist to aid witches as furniture- although stronger demons cannot be summoned by weak witches. Indeed, it is considered a great privilege amongst witches to have high-ranking demons serve them."

"Kind of like a bragging right?"

"Exactly~ If our hypothetical witch who has summoned a demon is concerned with helping others, then the demon will also attempt to help those in the human world. However, if the witch would rather torment others- and this is the type of witch you would be most familiar with," said Ronove, breaking off his narrative to give Battler a small smile.

Battler laughed. "Ihihi... Yeah, I guess so. I can't even imagine Beato being all sweet and helpful- unless it was an attempt to lower my guard so she can stab me while I sleep."

"Milady would never do anything so uninventive as stabbing you~"

"Yeah. That's not nearly cruel enough for that bitch."

"Language, Battler~ But I digress... If our hypothetical witch is concerned with harming others, then that will also be the demons' prime concern. So you see, demons are not necessarily cruel. It all depends on the orders of the witch who has summoned them. I suppose we're true neutrals in that sense... pu ku ku."

"Huh. Fairytales paint pretty unfair pictures of you guys, then."

"Sadly, yes," said Ronove, nodding. "Miss Gaap was quite offended when she learnt of our portrayal in human media... And Milady is less than ecstatic about the common witch being shown as hideously ugly~"

"Ah, well. Beato might be easy on the eyes but I bet she's all blackened and withered on the inside," said Battler. "She has a pretty bad personality."

"Well, she _was_ my former employer… I can hardly say anything negative about her. It would be in bad taste."

There was a small pause, a lull in the conversation. Battler picked at the thread of his duvet just to give his hands something to do- whilst, all the while, his mind was racing. His head was cluttered up with so many thoughts it felt like a kleptomaniac's attic, junk strewn everywhere in no semblance of order.

"Hey... Ronove?"

"Hmn?"

Battler looked up at Ronove from under his bangs almost tentatively, most of his face hidden in shadow. Meanwhile, his fingers still pick pick picked at loose thread, moving with a nervous kind of energy he couldn't express via any other means than continued fidgeting.

"I said some pretty stupid things last night, didn't I?"

"More stupid than what usually comes from your mouth? Surely not?"

"_Hey_." Glaring sourly, Battler shifted until he was in a proper sitting position, his eyes boring into Ronove's. "That was uncalled for. I'm your master now- you have to respect me."

"I have to follow your orders. That doesn't necessarily mean respect is required whilst I do that~" Ronove's teasing grin grew into a real smile after this; one that made Battler feel strangely... well. _Strange_. Strangely strange. "You shouldn't take my jokes so seriously, though, Battler~ I thought you would realize this by now."

"Well, maybe Beato's 'you're incompetent' comment got to me more than it should."

"She was merely trying to express her affections for you~"

"In a twisted way. Geez, I wonder where she got her flirting tips from. But... argh." A sigh; fingers fisting in his hair, eyes narrowing. "I'm trying to change the subject. I shouldn't be changing the subject."

"Perhaps you don't want to discuss 'the subject', whatever it may be?"

"No. I don't," said Battler, wincing. "That's exactly the problem. But you were asking me about it, and... a-and keeping it to myself, not talking about it with anyone, isn't going to make it better; not at all."

"And you decided to converse with me?"

"Of course," said Battler, not a trace of irony in his voice. "You were the first person I thought of."

Ronove looked… slightly surprised at this honesty. His lips parted for a few seconds in a small 'o'- before, finally, he smiled ago; a very warm smile.

"I'm flattered… Truly flattered."

"Yeah, well, you should be," Battler countered. "Ihihi… But, you know… I think... I need to talk about it... before I can accept it."

"That's very mature of you. I'm impressed~"

"Well, I hope I've matured a little, given all the shit I've been through. It'd be some kind of consolation prize for all the horror and misery... And all those embarrassing moments when I started to cry," said Battler, faking a shudder. "Gah. And I thought I was meant to be the 'hero' of this story. What would the old fairytales be like if the prince broke down in tears before her saved the princess?"

"And which princess, exactly, are you trying to save?"

Battler paused. He looked down at his knees, eyes downcast- before, finally, he looked back up at Ronove again. He seemed strangely sober (a contrast from last night); somewhat morose. More mature than usual. A little less naïve?

That… might have been a little tragic.

Ronove sincerely hoped Battler didn't become as cynical as Miss Gretel. That was almost too depressing to contemplate.

"I thought I was trying to save my family... and save Ange," Battler said. "I honestly thought I could do it... Defeat the witch, rescue everyone- just like somebody in a fairytale. I guess I thought I was the 'good guy'. But now... I'm not so sure. I don't even know if I have a right to _be_ here anymore... Damn it..."

"So... you believe you're not the, as you phrased it, 'good guy'? Please do elaborate," said Ronove softly, all the while toying with the idea of getting a little closer…

Well, maybe that wouldn't be a good idea- especially given how disturbed Battler had been when he woke up.

Battler winced, fingernails digging into his palm. "Well, I... I..."

"I promise I won't go anywhere- unless you wish me to, of course."

"No... No, I don't want you to go. I'm not finished with you yet," said Battler, a ghost of his familiar smirk settling on his face.

"Ooh~ Not finished, hm? This sounds interesting~"

"Not in the way you're thinking," Battler shot back, giving Ronove's shoulder a light shove. "Huh. And they call me a pervert. Just 'cause you hide it under that friendly smile and those manners, everybody thinks you're soooo respectable... It sickens me."

"Your words wound me, Battler~ And here I am trying to help," said Ronove, feigning hurt. It was a rather poor act, though, given he was still smiling. His voice lowered slightly, becoming more serious, "You can keep stalling if you wish, if you need to arrange your thoughts even further... It's fine."

Battler blinked a few times as he processed that information. Had Ronove really been stalling for him, then? Even though he wanted to know… Ronove had still waited for a while.

That was nice…

Sort of.

Ish.

"Huh... W-whatever."

There was another small silence after this; Battler staring intently at Ronove with his fingers clenched tightly into fists, whilst Ronove merely smiled. There was something comforting about that smile, and Battler couldn't help but feel grateful.

Battler opened his mouth.

Stopped.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

Then- with a newfound determination, the same determination that had flickered across Battler's face when Beato challenged him to one of her cruel games- Battler took a deep breath-

And began to speak.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **This was gonna be the chapter I had planned from tha start but it got too long so all the actually interesting stuff will happen next chapter XD~ Sorry, sorry...  
>Sometimes I think my stories move too slow. They probably do, ehehe XD<br>Maybe, subconsciously, I'm stalling and introducing filler-ish stuff because I just don't want this fic to end... XD This chapter was kind of a pain to write, though, and everything seemed so stilted and unnatural, I had to rewrite large chunks of it over a few times... :/ Especially the beginning.  
>It ended up being a lot longer than it was originally 'cause I was tryin' desperately to get the dialogue sounding somewhat natural, and… that was really difficult ;A;<br>~siiiigh~

It was still fun, though XP~

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	10. Fifth kiss

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Fifth kiss

* * *

><p>Throughout his confession Battler couldn't help but shake. His eyes were overly wide, breathing erratic, and he was sure his heartbeat was too fast. It pounded in his chest as though it was desperate to escape- exploding out of the confines of his body like something red and sticky and stringy; something from a horror movie. Battler couldn't keep still- picking at the loose threads in the duvet again... at least, until Ronove took hold of his hand and told him not to do it.<p>

But Battler still couldn't keep motionless.

He... couldn't remain calm.

When he spoke, his voice came out in a distorted gabble that hardly even resembled real human speech; fragments of broken up thoughts all mixed around together, until Battler hardly understood himself- so how on earth could somebody else?

But Ronove didn't say anything; not a single sarcastic comment or an instruction to calm down.

He sat quietly, patiently, and listened.

Ronove was… listening to him…

S-so that meant his words were important.

That meant his suffering was real and it had meaning, right…?

The presence of others made single lives meaningful. If Battler had been speaking to himself, he might as well have not been speaking at all.

S-so, even though Ronove wasn't talking… knowing he was there was still a comfort.

"Beato told me... she tried to remind me. And I still didn't get it. I didn't understand. It went over my head... I-I can't believe I forgot. I-I... can't believe I would do that..." said Battler, still trembling.

That was it…

His worst fear.

He'd just said it.

Battler had made Shannon that promise all those years ago - and then he had, quite simply, _forgotten_.

Completely forgotten.

What sort of irresponsible guy spouted romantic lines like that at a naïve young girl, building up hopes, then left her alone when she was at her most vulnerable?

Why… had he broken his promise?

He had liked her.

Maybe… even loved her.

Battler and Shannon used to spend days reading mystery novels in the rose garden. They would laugh as they build sandcastles on the beach- even if it was 'inappropriate' for a servant and Shannon feared Natsuhi would scold her.

And there was that one nervous time when, voice shaking, twelve year old Battler had asked if he could kiss her because she looked so pretty when the light shone on her face like that, through the leafy green canopy of trees overhead…

She had stuttered, blushed bright red and looked at her feet, very nearly tripping over a tree root (their childish game of exploring the forest surrounding Rokkenjima for a dead body or something else suitably 'mysterious' long forgotten)- and he had caught her.

Her lashes had fluttered, her eyes widened- and then she smiled...

She smiled, and she said 'okay'.

So Battler kissed her.

On the cheek, of course. Battler was a respectable gentleman, just like that old bastard kept telling him- ''you've gotta be nice to girls if you want them to like you, Battler~ They're delicate creatures, you know? Ihihi...'

(Whenever Rudolf spouted lines like that Asumu would roll her eyes and, once had even hit him over the head with a frying pan. Even so, Rudolf has seemed very wise to the young, impressionable Battler, and he took his father's words to heart.

Even if they were complete shit, as Battler now knew.)

That had been Battler's first kiss.

He kissed her.

It was like something from a fairytale, almost. The lower class serving girl, destined to be a lowly maid forevermore on the almost-deserted island, met the young heir of a rich family- and then they fell in love. Maybe the bonding over mystery stories wasn't a standard in most fairytales (Battler had read those fairy stories to Ange, and he couldn't remember a single mention of a good appreciation for Sherlock Holmes or Miss Marple featuring in The Little Mermaid or The Marsh King's Daughter), but it was still love.

He... had been in love with her.

Battler was sure of that now.

He hadn't been at the time, but looking back on it now…

Yeah.

The slight flutter in his chest he'd felt when his fingers brushed against Shannon's; the embarrassment when he fell over trying to impress her; the happy times sat together reading with their heads bowed, sitting a little too close with flushed faces and small smiles…

He had been in love.

The key word being 'had'.

Because all that love had been driven out of Battler's mind a few months after.

That was when Asumu died.

That was when Rudolf got remarried to Kyrie.

…That was when Battler decided he couldn't go back to his family; couldn't go back to Rokkenjima. He wanted nothing to do with them. He… hated the 'Ushiromiya' name. He hated it.

He… left her.

He left Shannon.

He _had_ been in love- but there was no 'had' when it came to Shannon, for she still was. She didn't forget. She held onto that promise with all her heart, as any lonely young girl would do. She had waited day after day for her Prince Charming to come back, all grown up and mature with a real understanding of the childish words he spouted so easily at a younger age, so they could go and have their happy ending.

She trusted him.

She believed in him.

She... loved him, too.

And he had betrayed her.

That kind of betrayal, after Battler had spent so long delicately trying to rebuild her hopes and dreams and self-esteem must have been too much for her. Whilst it was true not all girls were delicate (Jessica being a prime example), Shannon really was. She had been downtrodden by the other maids her whole life; bullied because she was favored by Kinzo; teased because she couldn't do anything right and scolded by Natsuhi for her incompetence.

She didn't have any family.

She didn't have any real friends.

Battler's promises were all she had…

"Ihihi... If Beato really is some part of Shannon... then I can see why she hates me. She has every right to. Maybe it made her feel better. I… think I deserve it, too."

"If only it were that simple," said Ronove.

It was the first time he had spoken in some time. Battler entertained some brief notion that it must have been _torture _for Ronove to sit and listen to him babble without interjecting or making some cynical comment lightly veiled with his usual charm. That thought was enough to make Battler smile, even if he did feel awful.

"Simple? What's not simple about it? I was a complete dick... and she responded by being an even bigger bitch. It makes sense."

"Ahh, you do have quite a nice way of phrasing complex ideas~"

"Why don't you adopt my methods, then? It drives me_ crazy_ hearing you use fifty words when five would do all the time, you know."

"I'm afraid I could never be so blunt~ My position would not allow me to be so straightforward, so I hope you forgive me… Perhaps I'm too set in my ways?"

"You're doing it again~" said Battler, voice sing-song, as he prodded Ronove in the cheek. "Talking too much. Waaayyy too much. I haven't even finished my sob story yet."

"Oh, I do apologize... I'm sorry for stealing the limelight."

"Well, you should be. I _am_ more important than you, after all." Battler smirked- though it was slightly tired, given the draining nature of the conversation. Even so, he had to try and remain strong. "I have the cape to prove it and everything."

"How silly of me. Do continue," said Ronove, bowing his head. "I'll keep a commentary in my mind whilst you babble on and deliver it at the end of your soliloquy, yes? Perhaps, with some sarcasm and a little charm, I can make you a good speaker yet~"

Almost tentatively, Battler... smiled.

Ronove's company was comforting. It was weird, but true. How could Battler feel so relaxed with another inhabitant of the meta world- a demon, no less, who kept flirting with him?

...It was a mystery.

Perhaps the biggest mystery in the game.

That, and where the hell Battler's sanity had run off to.

"Yes~ That sounds fine," said Battler, prodding Ronove's cheek again. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't being completely insufferable."

"Well, I do try~ You can commence your narration, now. Oh, but..."

Smiling, Ronove took hold of Battler's hand, linking their fingers together.

Battler blinked in surprise for a few moments- before, finally, he settled on his usual smirk.

"You know, I don't need you to hold my hand. I'm not a kid."

"I'm aware of that. If you were a baby goat I wouldn't be trying to have a conversation with you. Or, if I was… I'd be insane~"

"Oh, ha, ha. You know what I mean."

"I do. And I'm not merely holding your hand for my own pleasure~ You kept fidgeting earlier, and it was a little distracting."

"O-oh..."

"And _then _you started prodding me," Ronove continued. "It's not like you're trying to buy a pumpkin or something, Battler~ You don't need to manhandle like that."

"Ahaha..." Laughing somewhat sheepishly, Battler looked between his hand- linked with Ronove's- to Ronove's face. "You really do have a way of making almost everything seem like an innuendo."

"I beg to differ~ You merely have a dirty mind. However, you are a teenage boy... so I suppose I can forgive you."

"I wasn't aware I needed your forgiveness," said Battler, glaring at Ronove challengingly. "I was doing fine without it. And you can give me my hand back, now. That's an order."

"Certainly. Just remember to keep it to yourself. I don't want it."

"Alright, but you're missing out…"

Ronove released Battler's hand and, instantly, Battler held it against his chest; crossing his arms in an attempt to stop his continued fidgeting. Battler didn't want Ronove laughing at him...

Not that he would.

Ronove seemed to... genuinely care. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been trying to comfort him… Right?

"Hey," said Battler quietly, voice pensive, "do you think... um..."

"I do, on occasions, yes. It's good for the brain."

"No, not do you think in general," said Battler, resisting the urge to prod Ronove again. "I mean... do you think... Did I do something… unforgivable? Was I… really that awful?"

Silence.

Battler had half-expected Ronove to say something light-hearted or teasing, but he was wrong. Ronove looked… serious. Battler wasn't sure whether he liked that or not.

"It's... a tricky matter," said Ronove. "It… depends on who you ask the question to, I suppose."

"I'm asking you, aren't I?"

"I… I'm not sure, honestly…"

"Beatrice hates me. She… wouldn't forgive me."

"I'm not sure she hated you, per say. She enjoyed your company, surely."

Battler winced as though he'd been hit. "I-I can't understand how she could... given what I did. I must have upset Shannon- and if she is the real culprit behind those murders, then everything... Jessica, George, M-maria... My aunts and uncles..." Battler tried to suppress a choked gasp. "M-my _parents_... B-because of me...?"

"I believe Zepar and Furfur would say 'because of love'?"

"It doesn't **matter**, though, does it?" Battler surprised even himself by shouting so loudly- and, instantly, he felt himself regret it when his old headache began to resurface. Gasping, Battler pressed his fingers against his skull; eyes narrowed in pain. "Argh... damn it... D-damn it... I-I didn't want to admit any of the humans on Rokkenjima were the real culprits, b-but I never thought... I-I never even considered _I _was! I... All of it... B-because of me... I-I broke her heart. So I deserve..." Pain. "F-fuck... Damn, damn, _damn_. All of it- t-they died, because of me. Because I didn't understand what I was talking about... and I _forgot_. I killed them... And hurt her... Because I'm..." A painful, self-deprecating laugh. "Because I'm _**incompetent.**_"

Battler gasped when he felt fingers on his face; Ronove cupping his cheek, and not all that gently either, as he tried to hold Battler steady.

"Battler?" Ronove's voice was strangely intense. "Battler... Do you honestly believe that? Do you think you've done something that… needs forgiving?"

"I... I..." Battler winced- tried to swallow a painful lump building at the back of his throat. Looked down. Back up. His head swam. He shuddered. "I... I don't know! M-maybe! It was because of me- but then I think... B-but, am I just trying to pretend? Am I pushing the blame onto somebody else? I... don't know... I-it's too difficult to think about. And we all know about my amazing track record of incredible _genius._"

"You're not incompetent. You're very intelligent- save that 'small bombs' incident, of course, which was absolutely ridiculous." Ronove's frown turned into a warm smile. "They should use 'small bombs' more in mystery novels."

"B-be quiet... I don't want to hear about that. You shouldn't be teasing me at a time like this!"

But Battler wasn't angry. He wasn't even indignant.

Instead, he was…

Happy.

Strangely happy.

Ronove was trying to comfort him- and that was enough… to make him smile.

Maybe Battler hadn't been appreciative enough... but he really would have been lost without somebody he could talk to, or shout at, or cry in front of- because he had emotions (_way_ too many of them), and everything was so confusing and he didn't know what to do...

But he wasn't alone.

That was something.

And when Battler thought of it like that, it became easier to smile. Just a little.

"Battler."

Ronove's fingers were now holding Battler's face gently, as though it were something delicate- just like fine boned china. Battler leant into the touch without giving it too much thought. It was soft, so warm…

"Battler... you're not incompetent. If you were, you wouldn't have been able to discover the truth. You wouldn't be sat here right now."

"But Beato said it in the red..."

"I assume your 'incompetence' was true for a few moments, but it's not a constant state you're in, surely?" Ronove smiled. "You're a lot more intelligent than you think, so... don't put yourself down like that. Self-deprecation is always rather unpleasant to watch, even in jest. I like it even less when you do it."

"When I do it?" Battler echoed, mischief creeping into his voice. "Ihihi... I never really realized how disgustingly _nice_ you can be. It's disconcerting."

"I do apologize. Would you prefer it if I was cruel instead?"

"No. Don't do that," said Battler, after a small pause. He hung his head, hair falling into his eyes, trembling slightly. "No... That really won't be necessary... All jokes aside, I… I've been beating myself up enough about it enough myself. You don't need to join in… Because you'll probably be better at it than me." A smile, a small attempt at humor. "You have a way with words and everything, you know?"

"Battler...?"

"She… loved me. I know that. She really loved me... And I loved her. I promised her, I said... I said all sorts of stupid things. Things I didn't even understand, because I was just trying to look 'cool'- I wanted to impress her, and I really did like her, I did... But I forgot." Battler's eyes narrowed. "I-I completely _fucking _forgot, but she didn't! S-she remembered... S-she remembered because she loved me; I knew she loved me, and I threw it back in her face! I... I..."

Seized by a sudden desperation Battler looked up at Ronove, hair falling madly before his eyes, lower lip trembling with grief. Battler almost looked like a child; a confused little kid who had been scolded for doing something wrong, but they didn't quite know what that something was.

"I-is it my fault?" Battler asked, his voice cracking slightly. "I-I've been wondering that for so long, and I don't... I-I just don't know. I can't decide. Do you think it what happened is my fault! Beato does, I'm sure she does, but… But… W-what do you think? P-please... tell me..."

There was a pause. Ronove wasn't smiling anymore. Instead, he looked almost sad.

He… was worried.

At least somebody was.

The silence pervaded- and, all of a sudden, Battler began to feel selfish. He'd been throwing his own emotions at Ronove without pondering how he would take them, what he would think- and hadn't Ronove frequently said he found humans confusing? Demons weren't the same as humans, and maybe there were some things Ronove simply wouldn't be able to understand.

Maybe love was one of them.

…Talking about his first crush to Ronove was kind of embarrassing, anyway, even though the embarrassment level was completely outweighed by Battler's own rapidly increasing levels of self hate and misery.

"It's okay," said Battler softly, turning away from Ronove. "If you can't answer, it's fine, I-"

"Battler."

Battler paused when he felt fingers fall upon his arm; taking hold of his wrist and pulling him back.

"Ronove...?"

There was another small silence as Ronove attempted to gather his thoughts, at the same time attempting to iron out his expression to its usual smiling mask. However, his concern was still obvious; shining across his face in a way that made Battler feel almost light-headed.

Had anybody else ever looked at him like that...?

"...I believe it is solely your decision when it comes to assigning blame," said Ronove slowly, sounding rather more uncertain than usual, "but..._ I_ don't think it is your fault- at least, not completely. You suffered a traumatic event shortly after you made that promise with Miss Shannon. It might be insensitive for me to say, considering I cannot fully comprehend your feelings on the matter... if I am being insensitive I apologize, but… wasn't that when Miss Asumu died?"

Battler winced at the question, but his eyes remained dry. He wasn't a twelve year old child anymore, and, over time, he'd recovered from his mother's death.

People died.

It was… a fact of life.

Maybe it was a little insensitive for Ronove to talk of Asumu, but he was only trying to comfort him- and Battler still felt grateful for it. It was alright... It wasn't like before, when Battler was alone, unable to trust even his own dad because he remarried so quickly. Battler wasn't alone...

Not this time.

"Well... you were trying to recover from a large amount of emotional trauma. It's only natural you would forget your promise," said Ronove quietly. "And... you were only twelve years old at the time. Young children say a lot of things, and most people know not to take their words too seriously."

"...Except Shannon."

Battler's voice was hollow; dead.

Shannon hadn't known not to take his words seriously because she was a lonely girl, trapped on the island of Rokkenjima with no known family and no friends. Perhaps she had never been loved before- and maybe she had never experienced love herself, either. The only understanding Shannon had of the emotion was from fairytales, and that cheerful idealism didn't belong in the real world. Fairytale love was about as fictional as the magic and witches.

Shannon had been naïve and innocent; lonely, too. When she met Battler, and they began to fall in love... Of course she would believe in his promises.

Who else did she have to believe in?

She trusted him too much.

She trusted him because she loved him.

Her love... made her act in a ridiculous manner.

But Battler didn't blame her.

At least...

He _shouldn't_ have blamed her.

A-and yet...

"I don't know what to do. I-I don't know what to believe," said Battler, shoulders shaking. "I... I feel so guilty for thinking this- b-but... ihihi." A tired laugh- completely unconvincing, which only made it sadder. "I'm guilty anyway, so what does it matter? And yet... I-I don't know. I feel _horrible, _but..." Battler's voice trailed away.

He, quite simply, didn't know what else to say. He had enough thoughts to fill a well, but when he tried to speak they wouldn't come out of his mouth. Every time he tried to talk he felt a burning in his throat, a pain in his head; it felt like he was going to be sick...

H-how could he talk about such a cruel, horrible thing?

How could he even _think _about it? Wasn't he supposed to be the 'good guy'?

Well, the lines between 'good' and 'bad' had become significantly blurred now; all melting together like chalk on a sidewalk.

"Why do you feel horrible?" Ronove asked, once it became clear Battler wasn't going to continue without a little prompting. "You're making me worry, Battler... You shouldn't do that. I'm already over one thousand years old - it would be bad for my heart."

"Ihihi..." Another tired laugh. "I'm sorry. I-it's just... I feel, if I told you..." Battler ducked his head. "Y-you might, even you... Would hate me... Like I'm starting to hate myself..."

"I would never hate you," Ronove said firmly, sincerely, as his fingers pushing Battler's chin up once more; making their eyes meet. "I promise."

"You sure?" Battler smirked, but it a pale imitation of his usual self-sure, arrogant grins. "Want to test that?"

"We could try and make me hate you, if you like. I'm very interested to hear what you have to say now… But be warned, I don't hold grudges easily~ You'll have your work cut out for you."

"Well, _fine- _'cause you challenged me and all," said Battler. "I can't back out of it now..."

Ronove's fingers fell away from Battler's face at that comment- and, strangely enough (everything was strange now; that pretty much went without saying for all actions and words spoken), Battler felt... bereft. He wanted that human contact back; he wanted somebody he could lean on-

But... maybe he didn't deserve it.

Not after what he felt.

Shannon...

Her smiling face filled Battler's mind; her light-hearted laughter, her love for mystery novels, her flushed face when he kissed her, and it had only been on the cheek...

She didn't deserve to have her heart ripped out like that.

"Okay... I-I know that she was in love with me, and I betrayed her... I did a horrible thing. I'm not trying to say I didn't, because that would just be cruel- a-and that would be running away... B-but I don't want to believe I'm the only one at fault here!"

Battler's fingers were balled into his fists, his eyes shining with intensity, as he stared at Ronove- feeling, despite his sudden outburst of energy, horribly helpless; no more able to save his friends and family than a caterpillar on a leaf would have been able to do.

He… really was a weak bug now.

"I-it's true I promised a lot of things, but... But I was only twelve! You can't take the things a twelve-year-old says too seriously! I didn't think it through, but... I was a kid! Just a child! A-and then she pinned all her hopes and dreams on me, and... a-and that's too much pressure for a kid to handle! I-I never thought she would... so much... T-that she would really, truly love me- that it would ruin her life... I didn't want that to happen! I only wanted her to be happy- I did love her, I did! Why did she take it so seriously? S-she was... S-she didn't know what I was going through, too… S-she wasn't the only with troubles! A-and when I think of it like that, I… I…"

Battler cringed; staring at Ronove with desperation- screaming with face, though not his voice, that he didn't want to be judged, he didn't want to be hated…

Even though he was going to say something terrible.

"D-don't hate me… I-I already… hate myself…"

"I already said I wouldn't. I try to keep my promises."

Battler flinched at this backhanded comment. "O-owch… T-that was kind of cruel, wasn't it…?"

Ronove eyes widened at Battler's hurt, surprise flickering across his face- as well as genuine hurt.

"Oh, no…I'm sorry. That was a very poor choice of words on my part, I apologize… I didn't mean-"

But Ronove's apology (it was actually real this time) was enough to make Battler smile, ever so slightly…

He didn't mean it.

It really was a bad choice of words, but… it wasn't a deliberate insult.

"N-no, it's okay. You can make as many comments like that later, if you want…"

"I don't. I don't want to do that at all."

"W-well, okay…" Battler looked down at his lap. "But I… Fuck… I can't believe this- b-but, when I think of it in a certain way I… I… I think I might _hate_ Shannon…"

The pained gasp that followed Battler's words tore itself from his chest- his whole body shaking, his heart seeming to freeze in his chest.

Shannon had only fallen in love.

That wasn't her fault.

And yet, despite that, Battler… thought he hated her anyway.

Just a little.

It was easier when Beatrice had been there and she had been Battler's opponent. Although Battler staunchly refused to believe in magic, holding firm to the fact the culprit was a human, Battler still believed Beatrice was his real enemy. It had been easy to hate Beatrice because she was cruel, she was twisted and, above all, Battler didn't know her.

She wasn't his cousin.

She wasn't his friend.

She was… a stranger.

A witch.

And she was easy to blame.

Just like the imaginary person X who didn't exist.

To Battler, Beatrice had been... a scapegoat, maybe. A way of directing his hate at one person so it didn't consume him. It became less of a game to discover the truth and more of an excuse to hate Beato for everything that had gone wrong.

Battler had felt like a 'good guy'- just like a superhero from a shounen manga. He'd been trying to save everyone, his friends and family, from the evil witch- even though (a contradiction in thinking) he refused to believe in magic at all.

But now he knew the truth... Battler wasn't sure he wanted it.

He _knew _he didn't want it.

I-it was difficult enough accepting Shannon was (possibly) the murderer, or that he had driven Shannon half-insane with unrequited love and broken promises- because that meant accepting one of his best friends, his first love, had killed everyone…

B-but, by that logic, Shannon's motive meant Battler was the driving force behind it all.

He was the real killer, even though he'd never murdered anyone.

It was his fault.

They'd all died- his family, his friends, Ange, little Ange- all because of him.

It was because he... couldn't keep his promises... and he was a liar... and he was useless…

I-it was his fault.

It was easier hating Beatrice than hating himself- and all of a sudden, Battler felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards the Golden Witch, because if he had accepted her fantasy he wouldn't have to live in this reality... a-and reality was just too painful.

It _hurt._

He couldn't do it.

He… wasn't strong enough…

Battler wanted Beatrice to come back; he wanted to look her in the eye, to hate her, to purge himself of all this guilt and throw it upon Beato because it was _her _fault, why couldn't it be her fault? Shannon had been an idiot to take him so seriously- he never wanted to hurt her- she hurt herself!

She…

It was all her…

B-battler didn't want it.

He didn't want to be guilty…

…

The guilt... It...

It _hurt_.

He could hardly breathe.

It was crushing him.

B-but... hating Beatrice wouldn't help.

Hating Shannon wouldn't... help.

It didn't change anything.

He was the murderer.

He was.

They all died...

All of them...

H-he...

He...

He didn't hate Shannon.

That was a delusion.

He hated himself.

He deserved to be hated.

Maybe that would make him feel better

Maybe-

"Battler! Battler, are you- n-no, I'm sorry... That would be a stupid question... Battler?"

But Battler was drawn out of his reverie by the feeling of fingers against his arms; hands gripping him tightly- and Ronove had never looked more worried, more human, that it was almost frightening... If Ronove's face looked like that, then how did Battler's look? It must have been... pretty terrible...

Pathetic.

That was only to be expected.

Battler _felt_ terrible and pathetic.

"I don't know what to do," said Battler- speaking with disturbing clarity and calm, despite how ill he felt. "I don't know what to do about _anything_. I don't know if I'll be able to save my family... I don't know what will happen to my baby sister... I don't know if I have any right to be here anymore... I don't know if this my fault... I don't know how to make it better..."

Battler began to speak more quickly, falling into a strange hysteria, babbling without even being conscious he was doing it; fingernails digging into his skin, biting his lower lip- but it wasn't enough, the pain wasn't enough.

The pain Shannon had felt was worse.

He…

He had done something… terrible.

That deserved punishment.

He deserved to be in pain.

Maybe that was why his head wouldn't stop hurting.

"I don't know how to defend Beato's game board, I don't know how to get the real Beato back, I don't know if I _want_ her back- I don't know what to feel when I look at the new Beatrice, she looks like Shannon and I'm afraid... if I touch her I'll hurt her- I don't know what to do, I don't know, I don't even know how I feel about Beato! I don't know if I hate her... or if I pity her... o-or if there's still some bit of Shannon in there, a-and... I... love her... I don't know what to feel about **myself**! F-fuck… I wish I was somebody else! I seriously, seriously wish I was somebody else!"

Battler looked at Ronove with desperation, his whole body shaking- and at some point Ronove had pulled him against his chest, or Battler had collapsed, but Battler didn't care- he didn't care about their proximity because it didn't mean anything, he was falling apart- he thought he'd feel better when he spoke about it, but...

He felt _worse_.

He…

H-he couldn't stand to feel so guilty, he didn't want to, he didn't know what to do-

"Haven't you ever felt like this, when you're so completely confused you'd rather _die_? I bet you haven't... Ihihi... Y-you don't look like the type."

Laughing in a broken, humorless way, Battler tried to pull himself away from Ronove- but he was too weak, his energy had been drained from his outburst, and he only fell forwards again; Ronove's arms pulling him closer.

Battler was glad for the contact- i-it made him feel a little better...

"I-I don't know what to do..." Battler continued tiredly. "I don't, seriously- this is way too much stress for somebody like me... A useless person like me who can only whine about everything… Like an idiot."

"I believe we've been through this. You're not an idiot. You've handled it quite well so far," said Ronove. He sounded awkward- quite unlike his usual suave self, and so completely out of his depth it might have been a little funny if Battler was in the mood to laugh at anything other than his own stupidity. "Battler... Seeing you like this is... really too upsetting. Please… don't do it…"

"S-sorry... But... But it was okay all the other times, 'cause I could just hate Beato and then I'd feel okay- b-but what do I do know? I'd feel cruel if I hated her now, given it was all my fault... But I can't help hating her anyway, and then I feel **worse.** B-but it doesn't matter who I decide to blame in the end, 'cause it'll be my fault anyway, won't it? I... can't run away... B-but I don't know how to go forwards, either! I-if I knew what to do, how I felt, I'd try and save Beato- being the hero again, like usual, but... I-I don't even know how I feel about her! I don't know if I love her, or if I want to slap her across the face- b-because it doesn't matter if your motive was inspired by love if you still killed everyone, does it? Or maybe..." A bitter laugh. "Maybe the truth doesn't matter at all as long as you're happy in your own fantasy land. Maybe... that's it. So I should stop worrying, start smiling, and go play the hero some more."

Just like that stupid kid who said stupid things because he didn't realize how much they could hurt other people.

Ha.

Learning things from your past actions was a waste of time- especially as the past couldn't be changed.

So…

Battler could never set this right.

"The only thing I do know is that... I-I hate this." Battler laughed again, the sound broken. "I-I hate feeling this guilty. At this moment, I hate being _me_. D-don't you want to try being me for a while?"

"…I'm afraid I'll have to decline your kind offer."

"Why?" Battler smiled sardonically. "Because you realized how pathetic I am?"

"Of course not. It's… I think it would be a shame if you stopped being you," said Ronove, voice tentative as before, as he threaded his fingers through Battler's hair. "Becuase I quite like you. Just as you are." A small smile. "Your strange haircut, interesting logic, questionable sanity and all... I don't want you to change."

"Ihihi..." Battler smiled, slightly more sincerely than before. "Well... At least somebody cares."

"You shouldn't be too harsh on yourself. It was a mistake you made a long time in the past- and you aren't the only one to blame. It's... admirable that you care so much, truly; especially to a person like me... But agonizing about it won't change anything. Neither will making yourself miserable."

Battler bit his lip.

Then... he nodded.

"There~ You can't change the past, but you still have ample opportunities to repent for your past actions by being a little more proactive in the future, yes?"

"Y-yeah... Yeah… U-um… I… I wouldn't want Beato's game board to fall into Bernkastel's hands; not after all this time..." Battler blinked furiously, trying to dispel the threat of tears; trying to shut the voice up inside his head that kept calling him useless…

The scene of Ange's death replayed before his eyes- a-and he'd never seen it, but her screams must have been… terrible.

She wanted to find the truth.

How would she feel when she learnt her brother was a murderer?

How would she-

_Stop it._

_Just…_

_Just shut up!_

"I don't pretend to understand how you feel, Battler. But... for what it's worth, even if that may not be very much, I honestly don't believe you're a bad person. So... you should try and smile… because you look much more attractive when you do that. And it would make me feel better, too."

"Aha... ha..." Battler tried to force a smile, but it felt unnatural. "L-like this?"

Ronove tipped Battler's head back, surveying him from different angles as though he were admiring a painting in an art gallery. Then he said, voice teasing, "Ah... It's a start, I suppose."

Battler hit Ronove lightly in the side.

"Hey, I'm doing my best."

"I believe you. Just... keep trying. Don't stop."

"I will..."

Battler looked down at his fingers, interlocking them together slowly, as he ran thoughts through his head. W-what would he have done... if he hadn't been able to confide in Ronove? Battler was pretty much a common sense free zone most of the time, and, if somebody a little more sensible hadn't been there, he... might never have dragged his mind out of the past. He might never have been able to move beyond all that pain... A-and, yes, it still hurt. When Battler thought of the fond memories he'd shared with Shannon he winced; something sharp seemed to dig into his heart- and he knew trying to wash his hands of the past wouldn't change what had happened, it wouldn't alter anything- it wouldn't absolve his guilt.

It still... _hurt._

It wouldn't stop hurting.

Shannon…

Ange…

His family, his friends…

All because of him.

He still didn't know what to do.

But... Ronove had... tried to make him feel better, even though he was obviously uncomfortable doing it, which was a little funny, really... And Ronove hadn't left. He... had stayed there by Battler's side even though he was supposed to be a 'demon'- even though he, supposedly, wasn't too good at understanding all the complexities of human emotion.

But he'd still… stayed.

And he didn't hate him…

Battler was struck with a sudden realization. He had always known this, really, so maybe it wasn't that 'sudden'- but it had never seemed as serious as it did now.

When Battler spoke, there was something slightly incredulous in his voice, as though he couldn't quite believe it…

But…

Maybe, now, he could.

"You... really care about me, don't you?"

Ronove paused. Then, he nodded.

It was useless trying to deny it.

"I believe you already know... I've told you that before. I'd feel upset if you couldn't remember."

"Mm..." Battler nodded. "But... I didn't really believe it until now- or I didn't really take it seriously."

"You don't take my feelings seriously? I'm... hurt. Pu ku ku~"

"I thought it might have been a joke or something. You're pretty fond of them- so I don't know when you're being serious or not."

"Indeed~ I do like teasing you. It's fun to see your face turn red~" said Ronove, grinning- his comment prompting Battler to click his tongue and roll his eyes, in a manner Battler only just realized was eerily reminiscent of Natsuhi. "But... It's not a joke. I promise. I'm not sure how much my promises are worth, though."

"Well, since you seem... kind of sort of okay, despite your annoying personality... I'd say they're worth quite a lot. Although..." Battler grimaced. "Promises are only worth as much as the people who make them. As... I know. Full well."

"Please don't worry about that so much. I didn't mean to say that earlier, it… didn't sound right. I honestly wasn't-"

"I know, and it's… kind of flattering, knowing that you care so much. Really."

"…No problem."

"But, just because I believe you, it doesn't mean I'm curious. _Why_?"

"Why?"

"Why do you care about me? Why do you put up with me... urgh... _crying _all the time? If I were you, I'd have punched me in the face." Battler grinned weakly. "I guess I've been kind of a brat. I mean, I love Ange, but she still annoyed me sometimes when she started wailing when she wanted me to read her another bedtime story... And I mean, there's only so many times you can read Snow White before you go insane."

"I wasn't aware of the problem myself, but I'll keep it in mind~"

"Ihihi, yeah… So… Um… I just thought I'd offer, but…" Battler, looking vaguely embarrassed but still not moving, stared defiantly into Ronove's eyes. "If you want to hit me, I'd understand. I'd understand _that_. Maybe I'd let you, too, 'cause… I probably deserve it. But... I don't understand why you would... care about me... I don't deserve that. I think I've been loved enough already…"

There was another small pause as Ronove watched Battler, emotions working across his face that Battler had never seen there before.

To be cared about so much…

It… made him feel funny.

Finally, Ronove spoke; hiding those emotions behind light humor, as always, "Well… if my two choices are hitting you or caring for you, I'd have to take the latter. The former isn't very gentlemanly behavior."

"I'm being serious."

"I... I..."

Ronove looked distinctly flustered at the tone of Battler's voice- and Battler couldn't help but smile at how strangely endearing it was. So, Ronove was good at keeping a straight face whilst he teased Battler, but if his feelings were questioned seriously he felt embarrassed? That... was nice to know. At least he wasn't completely infallible.

Battler didn't feel completely stupid for crying anymore.

"Aww. You're stuttering," said Battler, grinning. "I didn't know you had a side like this too~"

"I didn't know you would ask me such a personal question," Ronove countered, still visibly flustered. "You wouldn't want to hear the reasons behind my feelings, at any rate. They would only embarrass you, surely?"

"No. I like being told how amazing I am. It's not something you people like to elaborate on often, and it would make me feel significantly less shit at everything."

"That may be the case... and I would love to make you feel better. Yet..." Ronove sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I realize that... you will not return my feelings... Given that you seemed to prefer Milady's company- and I have no doubts you will try and rescue her, regardless of how impossible people might tell you it is, because you're thick headed and also stupidly brave and kind like that. So, when you tell me to explain exactly what I feel and why, I hold no delusions that you would return those feelings even if I told you all about them... So… I think telling you would be a waste of time… A-and it would only upset me…"

"You get upset?"

"On occasions. I'm not completely heartless."

"And… you don't want to talk?"

Ronove shook his head. "It's not my job to talk about myself; I'm meant to be comforting you. My own problems pale in comparison to yours."

"That's a surprise. You can never stop talking about yourself normally."

"...That's quite cruel," said Ronove, although he was smiling. "But, you should know... That I _was _being serious just now. Bizarre though that may be."

"It is quite," said Battler, his voice dropping in volume, as he moved closer to Ronove. "So... you don't want to tell me... because you're worried I don't like you back? Also, that whole 'my problems aren't as important a yours' thing' was… Don't tell me you have some kind of inferiority complex! Ihihi… That kind of thing is more suited for cute girls, you know. It doesn't suit you."

"I'm sincerely sorry that I don't meet your high expectations of not being female."

"...Was that a trace of sarcasm in your voice? And… real irritation, too?" asked Battler, a little shocked at the offensive tone of voice Ronove had previously taken.

"I do believe it was. Imagine that."

"Yeah... Imagine."

Battler reached forwards, his fingers taking Ronove's shoulders; their faces now so close their noses almost bumped.

"B-battler..."

"Ronove." In contrast to Ronove's voice, Battler's was significantly calmer. That was a change. "I... I want you to know, if you weren't here, I think I'd actually be dead right now... I wouldn't know what to do." A smile. "I'm kind of useless, you know. I... can't deal with all this by myself. And..."

"And...?" Ronove smiled wryly. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just playing my part as furniture. I have to listen to you. You... can let go of me now."

Battler shook his head. "No."

"But you don't...?"

"Maybe I do. Won't know until I've tried."

"But Milady would-"

"Oh, shut up and let me thank you properly. That's an order."

Ronove gave a small gasp of surprise at the authoritative tone in Battler's voice; his usually impassive face flushing light pink, his eyes too wide…

He should have pulled that face more often.

It suited him.

Battler tipped Ronove's head back gently, his fingers under his chin, their faces closer together-

And then Battler pressed his mouth against Ronove's.

Ronove's weak protest died the moment Battler started to kiss him.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Yess :D This is the chapter I wanted to write for so long~ Mainly just because of this mental breakdown of Battler's XD  
>I can only assume at the end of Ep5 in the visual novel he learns the truth of Beatoriichee and somehow remembers his promise, because he becomes the game master meaning he has to know the truth… But, yeah. Knowing that Shannon flipped out and murdered people (in one interpretation of the truth anyway XD) because he broke his promise would really mess around with Battler, wouldn't it? At the very least, I'd expect him to feel horribly guiltyconfused… Poor kid ;A; And then, if he is all trauma about it, who's he going to talk to? Beato has 'died' by this point, Battler never spent enough time with Gaap, the seven sisters kept staking him for teh lulz in a few earlier games and Virgilia did that whole betrayal thing in ep3… So his opinions of friendly faces to turn to is pretty slim XD

Poor Battler XP  
>Poor Shannon, too (given I actually really like BattlerShannon… Eeee s'adorable! X3 I think I like RonoveBattler more tho XD~)

This fic is nearly over now ._.  
>The next chapter should be suitably fluffy.<p>

**~renahhchen xoxo**


	11. Sixth kiss

**A Different Point of View  
><strong>Sixth kiss

* * *

><p>"B-battler..."<p>

"R-ronove?" Battler asked, deliberately echoing the slight stammer that had been in Ronove's voice.

With a teasing smirk, Battler let his forehead fall against Ronove's. _Ha._ Ronove couldn't invade his personal space if there was no personal space left to invade! That was kind of ingenuous. Battler had to congratulate himself on his cunning. He had taken the initiative this time- fuelled by temporary insanity, confusion and thousands of other things Battler would inspect and label later- and seeing the light flush on Ronove's face really was worth it~

Why hadn't he tried this before?

...Oh yeah. Because being this close to Ronove used to repulse him.

"Ah... I get the distinct feeling you're making fun of me."

"Wow~ How on earth did you guess?"

"That untrustworthy smirk might have given you away... Pu ku ku~ You look like you want to eat me."

Battler grinned. "Nahh, too much trouble. Too many little bones. Sounds like a pain; not really worth it. It doesn't look like you have that much meat on you, anyways."

"And… is that the only reason you can justify _not _resorting to cannibalism right here, right now? That's a little worrying~"

"Don't worry, I'll leave all that 'humanitarian' stuff to Beelze. That's her thing, right?"

"Being a 'humanitarian' is quite different from being a cannibal..."

"Whateverrrr." Battler rolled his eyes. "I don't wanna get bogged down in semantics here. You really do talk too much- _all _the time. You make me wanna do _this_…"

And, so saying, Battler proceeded to do exactly 'this'- which, to be more precise, entailed Battler running his fingers through Ronove's hair as he pulled him closer (not that he could get much closer, given their proximity) and pressing their lips together again in another kiss.

There was something incredibly satisfying about hearing Ronove gasp like that (he really should have been expecting by now)- though the sound was muffled when their lips met.

That wasn't fair. Battler wanted to hear more of those… interesting… noises, ihi~

Battler drew away slowly, revelling in the small whimper he managed to pull from Ronove's mouth.

Even though Ronove had been making similar helpless noises whilst Battler kissed him, he was still surprised to hear it. Maybe it was something he couldn't get used to, no matter how often it happened…

Battler's whole head filled up with exclamation marks at this sudden wealth of potential blackmail material. What would Gaap say if she heard about this?

Wait, screw Gaap (nor literally), what about Beato?

…Argh.

Beato.

Battler shuddered.

He didn't really want to think about that. It wasn't a safe subject matter.

Resting his head against Ronove's shoulder, his arms wrapping round his middle, Battler idly began to kiss a path along the exposed skin he could find; moving up Ronove's neck to this cheek, the corner of his mouth- still trying to hear more of those moans.

"Aha..." Battler laughed softly, his cold breath ghosting over wet skin. "Maybe I should just... forget all this..."

Voice fragmented with yet more _noises_, Ronove managed to mutter, "I'm sorry if this experience was so disturbing you wish to suddenly contract a case of amnesia…"

"No, I don't wanna forget _this_," said Battler, prodding Ronove in the middle to highlight his point. "At least…" A pause. "I don't think so…?"

"Battler...?"

Battler laughed- but the sound was strangely broken.

"What... am I doing?"

"Something you'll probably regret."

"Yeah, I guess... I just..."

Battler tried to smile but it was lopsided, unconvincing. It didn't matter, though. It wasn't like Ronove could see his face, given it was still resting on his shoulder; lips pressed against his neck.

"Maybe life would be easier if I told Beato I've suddenly, inexplicably, become attracted to guys with stupid feminine hair and unfitting, even stupider mustaches. She might leave me alone… And then I wouldn't feel guilty anymore. Sort of. Ihihi…"

"...Slights about my personal appearance aside- which is very immature, you know-"

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's fine~ It's what I would expect from you, anyway."

"H-hey." Scowling, Battler pulled away from Ronove, glaring sourly at him; staring into his blue eyes. "What do you mean, it's 'what you'd expect'?"

Ronove merely laughed, though the sound wasn't that convincing. Instead, it was... a little sad. Sighing, he pulled his collar straight, hiding the expanse of his skin Battler had managed to expose.

"You could say that to Milady, but I doubt she would believe you. After all... it wouldn't be true, would it?"

Battler winced. "N-ngh... You just won't let me have a happy fantasy or two, will you? You won't let me believe… that everything will be okay…"

"Primarily because a 'happy fantasy' like that would quickly turn into a nightmare… At least, for you," said Ronove, that strangely melancholy smile still on his face. "I am well aware... that you don't particularly like me..."

"I like you well enough. Geez." Battler clicked his tongue, rolled his eyes. "Don't get all sappy and sentimental on me."

"Says the person who was crying in my arms a few moments ago?"

Battler's face flushed light red, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish before- finally- he managed to sputter indignantly, "T-that never happened! S-stop lying, it's... it's really not funny! I-I'm serious about... how I feel... y-you know? Joking about it won't help..."

"I'm serious about how I feel, too... And I don't think you should joke about it, either."

Battler blinked in confusion- or, at least, feigned confusion, which was exactly the same.

Sort of.

"W-what?"

"You know what I'm talking about," said Ronove, his voice unfailingly light and cheerful, despite the oddly bitter undercurrent Battler suspected few people would've been able to detect.

Battler didn't like the way this conversation was turning out...

"No, I don't," said Battler, frowning like a petulant child. "I don't want to talk. Just-"

Battler moved forwards, one of his hands cupping Ronove's cheek, meaning to kiss him again (anything to shut him up; it was nicer than talking- there wasn't as much time for unpleasant questions)- but Battler was halted by Ronove's hand pressing against his chest.

"Hey, what?" Battler's frown turned into a scowl. "I thought you 'cared' about me."

"I do."

"So you shouldn't have any problems when I-"

"But, sadly, I do."

Ronove bowed his head, hair falling before his eyes, obscuring his face in shadow. This was pretty odd behavior from somebody who usually seemed so calm and composed, r-right? If Ronove didn't want Battler to see his face then… his expression must have looked pretty awful.

Battler wasn't sure if he wanted to see it.

"Hey..." Battler's voice softened with worry. He was using the exact same tones he used to employ with Ange when she was sick from one of her frequent stomach aches. It was Battler's 'calming' voice- and one he hadn't used very often whilst being in the meta world, given that he was surrounded by insane people who wanted to kill him and/or have numerous 'who can shout the loudest and make the most dramatic hand gestures/stupidest faces' competitions. "Are you... alright...?"

Silence.

Then, so quietly Battler almost didn't hear it, he heard a soft, "Mm."

Suffice to say, it wasn't very convincing. Or comforting. At least when Ange lied, pretending she was okay when she'd just been sick, she would do it with a smile.

This was _awful._

"That's a pretty poor effort on your part, you know."

"What is?"

"I thought you were meant to be good at acting- keeping that stupid smile on your face all the time; but you must have more feelings like that... Ihihi... I gues you were trying to hide them? But if you really want to convince me you're 'fine' right now then smile, you id-"

But Battler's words slowly descended into silence.

All of a sudden, Battler realized something.

Something shocking.

"Damn it. I'm starting to sound like _you_. Just smile indeed... Argh." Battler grinned. "Now I've started with the 'indeed', too. This is bad... I've honestly been spending too much time with you!"

"Yes... I agree with that statement. We have been spending rather a lot of time together, hm?"

"Eh?" Battler raised a brow. "What are you trying to say? Why are you getting all mopey?" He pulled a face. "You're not like those girls in Jessica's trashy magazines that start crying when people have sex with them, right? 'C whilst that bullshit might be kind of endearing in movies, in real life it'd be awful! Just think- you're trying to make somebody feel good, and then they start bawling, and... God, it'd make you feel really stupid, wouldn't it? Like, 'fuck, I hope I'm doing this right.' Ihihi..."

Battler noticed he was babbling- but he didn't really care. He had to fill up the awkward silence somehow. Usually, Ronove would counter his comments with fairly deadpan humor, but now, it didn't look like that was possible.

It was making Battler feel uneasy.

Uncomfortable.

Why was that?

Well…

The answer was simple.

It was because… Battler… cared about Ronove, too… didn't he?

That was why he kept turning to him for help.

That was why he hadn't wanted him to leave.

That was why... he'd kissed him.

And that was why he was worried about him, even though he tried to tell himself he wasn't.

"Hey, you. Idiot."

Battler's fingers moved under Ronove's chin; trying to tip his head back so his face was visible once more. Battler didn't want to see his expression- but not knowing it was annoying, too. He really couldn't win.

It was a good thing Battler was used to not being able to win.

"When _I_ had a mental breakdown you got to see it, tears and snot and all. It's not fair you should be able to keep your dignity in tact by hiding behind your girlish hair. I can't do that- my hair isn't all long like yours' and..." Battler glared at Ronove. "And why do you look so _miserable_?"

Battler… couldn't really describe the look on Ronove's face. On a normal person it wouldn't have seemed to bad, certainly not a cause for alarm, but on Ronove- somebody who spent most of the time smiling inanely- it was shocking. A little disturbing, even. He wasn't crying- Battler began to wonder if he could (or maybe demons wept blood? That would be pretty awesome)- but... he certainly wasn't smiling.

"I'm sorry I wasn't showing you the full extent of my misery. How selfish of me."

His voice was deadpan.

Even so, Battler tried to lighten the situation.

"Ah, that's more like it~" said Battler, ruffling Ronove's hair without giving it much thought. It was the same thing he used to do to Ange when she was small. Whenever Ange got upset a pat on the head would always cheer her up. Somehow, it seemed only fitting Battler should recycle the same motion he'd used so many times before. Then again, Ronove wasn't a six year old girl who'd lost her cookie, so maybe it wasn't all that 'fitting' after all...

Ronove looked at Battler in the eyes, unusually serious.

"Do you want to know why I'm... acting strangely?"

"Aliens?"

"…Do they exist?"

"You, of all people, are in no position to question the existence of non-human beings, given you're a- oh yeah- fucking _demon butler_."

"Aha... Yes, I suppose that's true." At this point, a real smile finally alighted on Ronove's lips. "I'm sorry if I was being hypocritical."

"So, seriously." Battler grinned, trying to ignore the fact his hand still resting on Ronove's head. He wasn't sure when the right time to remove it was... Gah. He didn't think that clumsy through well, and now his arm was starting to ache... "What's wrong?"

Maybe he could put his arm down now?

...Yeah.

Maybe he would.

Before it fell off.

Ronove paused, looking hesitantly about the room (it was very white, as always) as he searched for the correct words.

Perhaps there were no correct words left to say in any language.

Finally, Ronove sighed, and turned back to Battler. He still looked serious…

"Alright..." Ronove began. His voice was calm, as though he were telling a story. "Let us suppose a hypothetical person X was born separated from humans and, instead, was raised... in a very different environment." Ronove smiled. "I hope this doesn't sound too sappy. I'm not trying to turn this into a Shakespearean tragedy."

"I figured. If you were, you'd be using words like 'thee' and 'thou' all the time."

"And 'hell kite'."

"That one, too..." Battler sniggered. "Hey, that's a pretty interesting curse. Why isn't it used more often?"

"It's a mystery~ I find it quite a waste, too."

"Didn't know English literature was so popular among demons?"

"Well, we need to find some way to keep ourselves active. So..." Ronove continued, after taking a deep breath. "Ah, it's only fair I tell you my feelings when you told me yours'…"

"Yes. That's true."

"It doesn't mean I want to, though."

"Oh, just spit it out already."

Ronove smiled. "…As you wish. Let us suppose this person X was never in contact with other humans, and, instead, was surrounded by others like him... And they were taught, from an early age, they existed to serve witches as furniture. Their own emotions- if, indeed, they could truly feel emotions- were... irrelevant."

_Why hello, furniture mentality, _Battler thought, sighing. _Geez. I thought Kanon was the only one who bought this nonsense._

_Being considered 'furniture' is just so very, very healthy and good for your self-worth, _obviously.

"Our person X saw no problem with this 'furniture' idea, and lived their life as expected for, oh... a few thousand years. None of the other people they knew from an early age changed very much, and everything was rather static, unchanging... And that was normal. Everything was... normal.

"And then X met somebody else quite unexpectedly. This person was an actual human, and X had only been in the company of witches and demons before… And this human was quite unlike any of the witches and demons X had met before. And…" Ronove broke off his narration to smile. "I suppose you can see where this is going?~"

"No," said Battler- though his cheeks were slightly flushed at this point. "No, I'm completely lost. You really have to keep telling me the story or I'll never know what happens."

"Ah... I thought you would say something similar... Damn." Ronove smiled. "I suppose my attempts at being enigmatic were rather useless..."

"Quite. I'm incompetent, you know. You have to spell everything out for me."

"You shouldn't tell lies, Battler. We've been through this," said Ronove. "Ah, so... let's see... Well. As you believe you're 'incompetent', I suppose I'll have to tell you… Hm…

"This human X met was very interesting... He had so many emotions, and it was so much fun to tease him, given he took the bait- something most demons never did. And... he was, at times, fun to talk to... So X became intrigued in this human...

"And then X realized, as he tried to cheer up this human because- even though he was quite strong- sometimes everything was too much for him, that... he didn't like it when this human was unhappy. He preferred it when he smiled- which was strange, because at first, the vast array of this human's emotions had been the interesting thing that had drawn X to the human... But, after a while, he only wanted to see him smile.

"That was probably when... X learnt that something had changed... And he also learnt that, maybe... Even though it was a ridiculous idea...

"Perhaps he had fallen in love...?"

Battler's eyes widened. H-he had thought that was the case, but to hear it stated like that- even though it was a question, and sounded uncertain...

Love?

Wasn't that a pretty... big... word?

Well, not literally. It was a short word- but that was beside the point.

It wasn't a word people threw about easily- and a word they _shouldn't _have used easily, as Battler had learnt.

Battler couldn't imagine Ronove would say such a thing without being naïve as to what it meant. He must have given it a lot of thought, even though he sounded unsure…

_Love?_

Seriously, though?

…It was too difficult to be serious about something like that.

Battler had to break the tension somehow.

"Ihihi..." Battler could only laugh, trying to dispel the intensity of this conversation. "That's kind of a problem. _Everybody _loves me."

"Keep in mind this is purely hypothetical~"

"Hypothetical... Of course," said Battler, rolling his eyes. "So... what would this hypothetical person do next... after realizing how they felt?"

"They would know that, no matter what they felt, their feelings could not be returned, because this human- although very intelligent- was also a tad dense, and was in love with somebody else, and they hadn't realized it properly yet. So... their feelings were purely one-sided, and would never be realized, whilst this human went to... aha, as you previously put it... play the hero, rescue the princess and have a happy ending."

Battler looked at Ronove in confusion, blinking rapidly, just like a china doll whose eyelids fluttered every time its head was tipped back.

It was difficult to talk.

Had it... always been that difficult to talk?

His throat felt dry...

Swallowing, wincing, trying to breathe, trying to speak; it was so difficult...

"Y-you..." Pause. "You think I love... Beato?"

"I didn't say that~"

"You implied it."

"Aha… Did I?"

Battler's eyes narrowed. "You _know_ you did."

"Well… perhaps I did, then."

"Do you think I love her?"

"I think _you_ think you do."

D-damn word games… Battler wasn't in the mood, not at all- but Battler couldn't help but turn that conversation over in his head.

Did he...?

Battler had always been slow about realizing his real feelings towards people. That was why it had taken him so long to understand his true feelings about Shannon.

His heart that fluttered, face flushed- and he never realized. Maybe it was because he'd only been twelve, but still…

He had been in love.

He'd always loved Shannon...

Until he forgot.

But it wasn't too late now, was it? If Beato was Shannon's years and years of hatred and misery with a nice dress and a corporeal form, then the chick Beatrice was Shannon as she had been six years ago; wide-eyed and innocent, baking cookies, so _nice_ it was sickening...

The cookies were kind of sickening, too. They hadn't tasted all that good.

Battler didn't love the chick Beatrice. He could hardly bring himself to look at her. She made him think of Shannon. She made him think of how he'd betrayed her; how he could betray her again, so easily- how he could take that innocence, without even meaning to, and twist it until it was mangled and unrecognizable.

But the real Beatrice... The Beatrice that had emerged after one thousand years of suffering...

Battler had hurt her.

She had hurt him.

Weren't they even, then?

They were... equal.

And Battler had to admit, even grudgingly, that he _did_ enjoy her company.

Battler didn't have to worry about hurting Beatrice. She wasn't fragile and delicate. She was strong, she could take care of herself, she was bold and arrogant and annoying and crass and completely insensitive-

And... Battler, in some strange, twisted, way, liked her.

He liked her the way she was.

He... _did_ care for her...

And he was going to save her.

He had to.

Maybe...

"Am I right? I'm right... aren't I...?" asked Ronove quietly.

There was silence.

Then, finally...

Battler nodded.

"Y-yeah. I do like Beato. I-I... I want her back. I'd feel... weird... without that bitch breathing down my neck; making perverted comments; trying to make me miserable... Ihihi... But isn't that what all married couples do?"

"Yes... I always thought you got along very well," said Ronove, smiling. "Well... It might have taken a bit of gentle prompting, but if you've finally understood what has been so blatantly obvious from the beginning... then I'm happy for you."

"Y-you're _happy_?"

"Milady has been through rather terrible times- as have you. If you made each other suffer... then it seems only fitting you should be able to make each other happy, yes?~ Isn't that poetic justice? I think you'll receive the ending you deserve."

"Y-yeah, but you can't say things like that so easily!" said Battler. A sudden, impulsive anger flared through Battler's body as he roughly took hold of Ronove's lapels. "For one thing, all that mushy talk is turning my stomach, so stop it! A-and for another... H-how can you be so _calm _after what you just confessed? I-if you really _do _lo-" Damn. "Lo-" Damn. "Lo-" Why the fuck was that word so difficult to say? "If you really do _love_ me, then shouldn't you be a bit more upset!"

"My, my. That's quite sadistic. Do you want me to be upset?"

"N-no, of course not! Stop trying to make me sound _horrible._ But... f-fuck, you're making me feel bad! Don't pour your heart out to me then go 'oh, sorry, it doesn't matter, be happy with _somebody else_ even though I, despite looking like a feeling-less bastard, actually _love you_' two seconds later- you're just making me feel cruel! I don't want... to feel guilty..."

"Battler."

Battler gasped as he felt fingers on his cheek; Ronove's hands cupping his face, and- where had his gloves gone? Not that it mattered...- and somehow Battler had let go of Ronove's lapels and now... N-now Battler was the one being held; but it was gentle, soft, warm, nice...

"Battler. I... don't mind." A small smile. "Or, if you wish me to mind... Perhaps I can console you by saying I'll be exceedingly miserable when you're not looking?"

"Not. Helping."

"No?"

"To be honest, I think that makes it _worse_."

"Ahh... You humans are so confusing~ I thought you'd be happy I'm not trying to make this complicated?"

"People... usually _like_ making things complicated."

"Well, the situation is suitably... 'messy' already. I doubt it needs my help. I think I've already contributed to it enough already. I really… had no right to care for you this much."

"What do you mean, a 'right'? Of course you had a 'right'."

"But it is unfair to Milady… I can't help but feel guilty, too…" Ronove winced. "I'm confused by this as well. I'm just… trying to make it easier for you."

"And what about _you_?"

"What I want doesn't matter."

"But-"

"Don't worry on my behalf. Please. I'll be fine. I could always take a leaf from your book and go drinking with Miss Gaap later…?"

"I don't want to turn you into an alcoholic," said Battler flatly. "Stop putting so much pressure on me."

"I'm… sorry? I'm quite poor at dealing with relationships like this, you know," Ronove confessed, looking with unguarded emotion into Battler's face. "So please… if I say something strange, it is only because… I'm still somewhat confused. You'll have to forgive me. My mind is still made up."

Battler could only stare at Ronove, his heart pounding, breath catching in his chest.

Words.

Right.

He needed to respond.

Where the fuck had all the words gone?

"Ihihi..." Unbidden, Battler began to laugh. "If only I'd been this popular at school~ I could've had my own harem at the age of fourteen."

"A noble goal indeed."

"Oh, shut up."

A pause.

Then... tentatively... Battler tried to smile.

"H-hey, um... Y-you are kind of- I mean, a _lot _annoying... But... I'd probably be dead without you. Or curled up in a corner somewhere. And... I appreciate it."

"It's alright~ I was merely doing my job."

"Was falling in love part of that job?"

"Aha..." Ronove laughed sheepishly. "That... may have been a slight accident. I should have been more careful, really. I just never expected something nonsensical like this would happen, so I didn't try to guard against it…"

"Moron," said Battler- though there was a hint of affection in his voice. "... But..."

Battler reached forwards- and, very softly, pressed his lips against Ronove's; letting them linger there for just a few seconds before he drew away once more.

Battler looked up at Ronove- who was unusually flustered once more- and... smiled.

"...Thank you."

"For what…?"

"For being so horribly nice I might have to punch you. Or get you to punch me."

"That's not a very gentlemanly thing to do, is it?"

"Of course not… So I suppose… We could do this instead…?"

Another soft kiss.

"At least… for the last time."

"Wasn't that the last time?"

"No." Battler smiled, arms wrapping round Ronove's middle, as he pulled him closer. "You still have one more. Don't waste it, okay?"

The next kiss was longer than the others- and when Battler finally pulled away, he found his eyes were shut, his breathing laboured… and he felt horribly, indescribably sad.

But the feeling only lasted for a few moments.

* * *

><p><strong>an: **Kikiki~ So I said this chapter would be sappy, but not even I expected it would be /this/ sappy XD~ This is the kind of sugary fluff that can rot teeth XDD  
>Uuu… Trying to write truly heartfelt sappy romance whilst keeping everyone IC (or vaguely IC) was such a bitch : They're probably a bittt iffy on characterization but gahhh : :  
>Next chapter is the last one I think mayybeee~ X3<p>

I kinda wish other people would write some stuff for this adorabubble pairing. I kind of want to read about it from time to time instead of just writing it, you know? XD~ I guess that… might not happen, though XD -flails-  
>I'll just go watch some more Hugh Laurie and Stephen Fry to make the bitter taste of disappointment go away XDD~<p>

~~**renahhchen xoxo**


	12. Last kiss

**A Different Point of View****  
><strong>Last kiss

* * *

><p>The white chapel had always seemed so oppressive, almost frightening. It was the place where, in the previous game, Natsuhi had been on trial, and where Beatrice had been eaten alive by a sea of goat butlers. It was the place where Erika had tried to marry Battler, ensnaring his soul to her forever- and the place where Beatrice had rescued Battler…<p>

It was quiet in the chapel now. Erika was gone- and so, too, were her masters. The only people left were Beatrice, Battler, Zepar, Furfur and Beatrice's furniture. Nobody spoke- though Virgilia looked as though she was on the verge of tears. Gaap had pulled her into a comforting hug. Asmodeus' eyes were wide as she watched the scene before her; the aftermath of not only a battle, but a wedding. It was… so romantic…!

Bits of rubble and debris from the vicious battler of red truth littered the floor, but- even so- the scene was still like something from a fairytale.

The hero and princess were finally united after the final battle.

Everything was calm…

Everything was peaceful.

Battler held onto Beatrice as though she were a lifeline. His arms circled round her slender waist, pulling her close to him, as he inhaled the soft scent of lavender that clung to her pale, milky white skin. Her hair brushed against his cheek, making him shiver.

If anybody had told Battler at the start of his mind game with Beato that he would end up in a disgustingly romantic scene like_ this_ with the cruel witch, he would have laughed at them.

Laughed, or become really, really disturbed.

Indeed, it felt… weird; almost like it was some strange dream.

It was odd how much Battler had hated her before- but now all those feelings were… gone?

Well, they hadn't 'gone', not quite. They were still there; a hushed sort of resentment that bubbled up under the surface, but couldn't quite escape his mouth. All that pain, all that misery, all that anger- it couldn't be erased so easily. It would always be there- but now, instead of blindly hating Beatrice without knowing who she was, Battler… understood her.

He understood why she was so cruel.

He... sympathized her.

It was so easy to push the blame of a tragedy onto one person- but people rarely did terrible things without provocation. It might have taken two people to create a universe, but it took two to destroy one, as well.

Maybe Battler had finally become more mature.

He... finally knew that.

He couldn't blame Beatrice for everything.

Beatrice wasn't just the cruel witch with the insane smile and the cold laugh.

Beatrice was the lonely maid whose love had warped her into a monster; the young girl Battler had spent so many lazy summer days with; the girl he'd fallen in love with- and whilst Beatrice was different from Shannon, that confused young maid was still in there somewhere.

Battler knew she was.

And yet, Beatrice wasn't that maid; not anymore. She'd been through so much her personality had been pulled apart; turning her into a sadistic woman who enjoyed causing others pain because she had been hurt so badly before. When you thought of it like that, her cruelty was understandable.

But there was a softer side under there.

A more emotional one.

A side that... had never stopped loving Battler.

"You should be glad I came when I did," said Beatrice, smirking. "Otherwise you would've been done for! Getting help from the girl you're meant to be saving… that's so pathetic! Gyahaha!"

"Aha… I thought I was being unconventional? Isn't that a good thing?"

"Fufu~ So impudent~ You're meant to sweep me off my feet! I'm so disappointed!"

"But that's so boring and predictable~ I thought you like interesting things, Be~a~to?~"

"Hm… Well, I guess that's right… You know me so well, fufu." Beatrice snickered. "You haven't changed at all, Bahhttler. You're still completely **useless**."

"Ihihi, maybe..." Battler laughed. "But you like helpless people, don't you, Beato? You have a thing with pushing others around- just like a selfish little kid!"

Beatrice pouted. "Mu… I'm nowhere near as bad as Erikaaa, you know! Don't make me sound so cruel!"

"Yeah... When I think about what it'd be like to be Furudo Battler..." Battler shuddered. "I guess it turned out pretty okay in the end when you oh-so-gallantly came to my rescue."

"It's more than okay, idiot. You're married to me now; a beautiful, sexy witch! This is every man's dream! Ahhh, you're not even deserving of my company; you should bend down and lick my shoes clean for putting me through so much trouble you- h-hey, i-idiot... W-what are you...?"

Beatrice's words faltered as Battler pulled her to him even tighter- and Battler was amused to note a light pink blush had spread across her face.

"Ihihi... Yeah, you really do look beautiful and sexy when you pull faces like that."

"Moron..." Beatrice pouted. "I went and saved your stupid, undeserving life and now you're making fun of me! You haven't even thanked me properly!"

"And how exactly would I do that, huh?~"

"I-I don't know! Use your imagination!" Beatrice said. A rather mischievous smile spread across her lips. "You had plentyyyy of imagination when talking about those small bombs~ Fufufu~"

"Don't remind me..."

"I won't. Just..." Beatrice looked up at Battler imploringly from under her eyelashes. "Hey, Battler...?"

"Yes, Beato?"

"We're alright now, aren't we?" she asked somewhat shyly.

It was strange how quickly Beato switched between those poison-barbed comments to a softer, more sincere tone of voice. She did it so often it was almost enough to give Battler whiplash.

Maybe that old bastard had been right about a few things. Women really were confusing.

Beato was no exception.

Most women couldn't turn themselves in golden butterflies and they didn't claim to be one thousand year old witches, so Beato beat all those women in the 'confusing' competition hands down.

She was probably proud of that.

"Do you... forgive me? I had a perfectly good reason for everything I did, and you were a complete idiot- y-you really don't understand a girl's feelings at all... B-but... Muuu... I-I don't want your forgiveness, okay? I can sleep easy without it, it's just, if we're married, it would be kind of awkward if you hated me and, and..."

"Beato. You're babbling."

"Shut up!"

"But you sound so cuuuteeeeee~"

"S-shut up..." Beatrice said quietly, staring at Battler's eyes. "I mean... I... The Golden Witch doesn't apologize to anybody, but maybe... The maid girl you used to know would say something suitably meaningless that wouldn't change anything but would massage your ego or your feelings or something, like... Ahem... I-I'm really sorry for putting you through so much... and I hope... we can move on from that... If you want to. I mean, I don't want to be stuck in this stupid game all the time- not when you've discovered my answer and, well…" Beatrice looked at Battler hopefully. "That's all hypothetical of course, but… can you put it behind you?"

"Well, I dunno."

Beatrice's face turned white. "I-idiot! I command you to forgive me, I-"

Battler laughed, taking hold of Beatrice's hand, as the witch had tried to punch him in the chest. It didn't hurt, though. Instead, it was just... really, really adorable.

Beatrice wasn't all that dissimilar from Shannon, really- even though she tried to hide it.

Why hadn't been Beato been that adorable throughout their whole game? It was such a waste!

Then again, if she had, Battler would never have learnt to hate her... Then pity her... Then understand her.

And then, finally...

Love her.

Yes. Despite all her faults and flaws, and despite the horrible things she had done, Battler still loved her- and though it wasn't sensible, he couldn't deny that. Ha; Battler had never been all that sensible himself, anyway.

Battler paused.

Then, he smiled.

"What do you think, you stupid witch?"

And with that, he dipped his head, and pressed his lips against hers.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Ronove!~ You're looking a little doowwnnn~ Are you okay!"<p>

"Hm... To tell the truth, not really, I suppose..."

"What's wrong?" asked Virgilia, worry evident in her voice, as she took a seat beside her friend. "I must admit, I feel a little out of sorts, too… I'm very happy for that troublesome child, and I'm glad she's found the happiness she was searching for- but… I'm a little upset about it!"

"Yeah, Lia really was," Gaap snickered, ruffling Virgilia's hair. "She likes to act all matureee but she was bawling like a baby, did you see her?"

"G-gaap..." Virgilia muttered, her face flushing light pink, "d-don't say things like that... Any mother would be a little teary-eyed to see her daughter growing up, yes?"

"Yeah, but you took it a little too far, Lia!"

"G-gaap!"

"Anywayyyy~" Gaap planted her hands on the table top, leaning over it so she could peer at Ronove. "You weren't looking too happy, thoughhhh. Everybody else was all smiles and sunshine and bittersweet tears, but you… looked kind of sadddd. I wonder whyyy?~"

"I believe you know the reason why. Of course, I am happy for Milady and Battler... And yet..."

"Oh. I see." Gaap smiled softly. Gaap was rarely comforting; that was Virgilia's role. It was a little strange to see Gaap acting so kind. "I suppose even somebody like _you_ isn't above a little jealousy, huh?"

"Jealousy?" asked Virgilia innocently, looking between her two friends. "Whatever do you mean? I feel like I'm quite out of the loop here..." A sigh. "But that has always been the case."

"No... Don't worry, Virgilia," said Ronove, smiling. "I'll probably feel better if I confide in you... You have a very soothing presence."

"Yeah! Who cares if one of us has had our hearts horribly, horribly crushed and disfigured and stomped on! Life goes on, right?"

Ronove winced slightly at this comment. "...What a charming way to put it. Your tact is outstanding."

"I know!~" said Gaap brightly. "Don't worry, you'll get over it. Virgilia's really good at comforting people, you know?"

"I-I would be, if either of you would be so kind as to tell me what's wrong. You're making me worry..."

"Ehehe~ You wanna know why Lia worries, Ronove?"

"Because she's a very kind person."

"Well, yeah, but that's not alll~ You see, Lia really li-"

Virgilia's face flushed dark red. "D-don't say untruths like that so casually!"

"Aww. Maybe Lia's a little shy, Fufufu~ But it doesn't matter. We're gonna sit here and talk until everything gets sorted out and everyone feels better, okay? Ronove, you want me to explain it to Lia, or will I?"

"I probably should. You would only make it sound more scandalous than it is actually is," said Ronove, laughing.

"Okay! But first, I think we should get something to drink!" said Gaap, punching a fist in the air. "Alcohol's good for a little depression, right? I guarantee before the end of the night everybody will be feeling happy again!~"

"I-I don't really want to drink…"

"Oh, Lia, you killjoy- I don't care what you want!"

"You've always been selfish…"

"Hey, if I'm so _selfish_ then why was I comforting you when you were crying like a baby?"

"T-that is…" Virgilia looked down at her lap. "T-that has nothing to do with it!"

"Aww~ Lia, you're so cuteeee!"

"N-no I'm not!"

"Okay then, you're hideousss~"

Ronove couldn't help but laugh at the scene before him.

"Perhaps you shouldn't tease her, Gaap. You can go too far. I suppose I'll have to stay here to prevent either of you from hurting the other." Ronove smiled. "It's been a while since I spent any time with either of you, hasn't it?"

"Yes!" said Gaap, putting her hands on her hips. "I'm not very happy about that! We need to rectify it!"

"How curious. I was thinking of the exact same thing."

"So let's have a good time, right?" said Gaap. "I mean, who cares about Bahhttlerrr?~"

"What does Battler have to do with it?" asked Virgilia.

"Oh… It's a long story. Fufufu~" Gaap giggled. "A very long story. But I'm sure Ronove won't mind telling you~ Remember, a trouble shared is a troubled halved."

"And yet, with you, a trouble shared is a trouble doubled," said Ronove, looking at Gaap. "Perhaps I will need something to drink after all…"

* * *

><p><strong>The End<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>an:** Gaap, Lia and Ronove are just adorable as a group of good friends :3  
>And... it's over ;A;<br>That's a little sad. I had fun writing this. OH WELL.

Anyway, about the title of this fic...  
>This fic was kinda-sorta intended to be a companion piece for 'Under the scarlet sky'. They're not very similar (at all), but both handle the issue of Battler and Yasu's relationship. Scarlet sky kind of portrays Battler as being a horrible person for leaving Yasu behind, but this one tries to show Battler wasn't intending to be cruel, he was only 12 and he simply couldn't remember his promise.<br>This fic was also kind of inspired by the lj 7snogs challenge, hence all the kissing~ I was going to try and follow the themes, but that didn't work out too good XD' There are still 7 kisses in here, though ^_^;;

Anyway~  
>I hope you liked it ^_^; I'll probably make another multichap Umineko fic with a weird pairing at some point (I'm thinking NatsuhiBelphegor... XD) so, yay? ^_^;;  
>I also feel I might need to add an epilogue or an omake-type thing onto this story so it doesn't end on such a bitter note, but… we'll see XD<p>

As always, I'm very glad that people read/reviewed this fic, despite its general weirdness. Thank you ^_^'' I'm happy some people can enjoy this, even though it's such an odd pairing XD~

**~renahhchen xoxoxo**


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